Marjorie Dean, Marvelous Manager
- -
- 100%
- +
“‘Since you used to be greatly interested in old and rare books you will remember the Ellerton’s fine private library which I once took you to see when you were in New York. It is to be sold soon, at auction, as a whole. The elder Ellertons have died and the heirs to the Ellerton estate prefer to convert the library into cash. It appears to be the chief aim of the rising generation to convert everything of beauty and worth, which has a monetary value, into dollars, regardless of tradition. So that splendid monument to learning, Steven Ellerton’s library, will come under the auctioneer’s hammer next month.’”
“I’m sure the Ellerton library couldn’t be finer than the Hamilton Arms’ library,” Marjorie said in loyal defense of the remarkable collection of volumes gathered together by Brooke Hamilton.
“It is not as complete, if I remember rightly,” Miss Susanna said, looking pleased at Marjorie’s staunch opinion. “Uncle Brooke has some rare Chinese and Japanese books and a collection of Spanish incunabula which I know the Ellerton library lacks, as well as a good many other rare and curious books of which he possessed the only known copies.”
Miss Susanna’s face broke into a little, amused smile as she glanced from one to the other of the two girls.
“You girls must surely understand by this time what my inspiration was. You both look a trifle bewildered. Can’t you add two and two, children?” she asked playfully. “You ought to know the result.”
“But it’s such an overwhelming result, Miss Susanna!” Marjorie drew a long breath. “Two, which stands for the dormitory girls, plus, two, which stands for the Ellerton library make – ” Marjorie paused. She gazed at Miss Hamilton, her eyes bright as stars. “It’s too wonderful even to think about; – until I grow more used to the idea. It’s too great a gift, Miss Susanna, after all you’ve already done for the dormitory project.”
“Nonsense. Nothing is too great for me to give, provided I have it to give, and feel like giving it,” declared the old lady brusquely. “I like the idea of the dormitory having its own library. I have only one request to make concerning it. I’d like to have the library named the Brooke Hamilton Dormitory Library.”
“Just as though we could give it another name!” Marjorie exclaimed with fond fervor. “I’d say it ought to be named for you but I know you would rather use Mr. Brooke’s name.”
“Of course I should.” Miss Hamilton gave an emphatic little nod of the head. “I shouldn’t like the ‘Susanna Hamilton Dormitory Library,’ as a name. Should you, child?”
“Yes; I should,” Marjorie disagreed with affectionate frankness. Jerry echoed the opinion.
“You’re a couple of nice children. I appreciate your loyal approval,” Miss Susanna told them. Her tones took on an odd grimness as she added: “My name shall not appear in connection with a Hamilton College movement, however worthy it may be. In the case of his name, there’s a difference. He had the right to hope that his name might be perpetuated in the college his genius and benevolence raised up.”
“‘The college his genius and benevolence raised up,’” Marjorie meditatively repeated. “How beautiful that would be in a biography of Mr. Brooke Hamilton.” She flushed, but looked bravely at Miss Susanna. She had, in thus speaking, obeyed an irresistible impulse.
Answering color signals displayed themselves in the old lady’s cheeks. A frown sprang to her brows. It disappeared almost instantly. Her alert dark eyes grew tender. “It was a fortunate day for Hamilton when a certain curly-haired little girl first set foot on the campus. Why not call the new dormitory the Marjorie Dean Dormitory? The dream dormitory that Marjorie Dean’s unselfish work made a reality. That’s what Uncle Brooke would say if he were here.”
“How I love you for saying that, Miss Susanna, about Mr. Brooke Hamilton!” Marjorie cried happily. “But I think Robin has done more hard work than I to make the dormitory a reality. It should be named for her.”
“Don’t you ever believe it, Miss Susanna.” Jerry laid emphasis on each word. “Marvelous Manager began it. Robin is a close second, though. The ‘dorm’ ought to be called the Page and Dean Dormitory. Sounds something like a business directory, but it tells the story. And the great beauty of it is this: – it includes both distinguished promoters.” Jerry directed a refulgent smile at Marjorie, who promptly made a saucy mouth at her.
“The Page and Dean Dormitory,” repeated Miss Susanna with a humorous glance at Jerry. “I rather like the sound of the combination. You’re right about it, Jerry. When one has two such retiring persons to deal with as Marjorie and Robin it becomes necessary to drag them both to the front. So be it. Now for Uncle Brooke’s study and our library catalogues. Only a limited number of them were issued. I wish you had been with me at the auction. There was some very brisk bidding at first. There were perhaps a dozen wealthy New York men interested in the auction. Richard Garrett represented me. I had nothing to do but keep quiet and listen to the bidding.”
Miss Hamilton continued to relate in her abrupt, lively way the interesting circumstances of the auction as they left the Chinese room and stepped into the lift which Jonas manipulated for them.
“Send Selma to clear away the tea things, Jonas,” she ordered as she stepped from the tiny elevator. “Then come to the study. You must go over the catalogues with us. Nothing like familiarizing yourself with the books you are going to pack.”
Jonas disappeared with alacrity. He returned as speedily to the study, an utterly pleased smile decorating his placid, old face. He was immensely proud of being invited to make a fourth member of the group in the study.
The four friends sat at the massive, claw-legged library table and were soon deep in exploring the copies of the auction catalogue with which Miss Hamilton had supplied them. They read by snatches, browsing avidly here and there among the descriptive pages; exclaiming exultantly over one rare book or another which they discovered listed there.
“I’m positively dizzy with pride and vanity over the dormitory’s wonder of a present!” Marjorie’s eyes gleamed like stars. There was a wealth of feeling in her gratefully gay utterance. Presently, she allowed the catalogue to drop from her hands to the table. She sat gazing at the erect little figure on the opposite side of the table with boundless affection. “I’m sure you must love the dream dormitory that you helped make a reality as dearly as we Travelers do,” she said fervently.
“We’ll say I have nothing against it,” Miss Susanna said dryly. “Why should I? It’s not on the campus.” She cast a defiant glance about her. “But we’ll not go into that subject. Back to our library. Having acquired it, the next thing to do is to get it here.” The independent donor declined to hear of her own generosity. “You’d best start for New York in the morning, Jonas,” was her next terse remark.
“What train, Miss Susanna?” Jonas inquired imperturbably.
“An early morning train. One that will bring you into New York, it ought to be called New Pandemonium Let Loose, while daylight lasts,” the old lady pithily replied.
Jerry and Marjorie were both smiling openly at the sudden imperative order Miss Susanna had launched at Jonas, and its tranquil reception.
“Yes, Jonas, for goodness sake don’t get lost in the wilds of New York after dark,” Jerry warned with a chuckle. “I hope you know who’s who, what’s what and where’s where in the metropolis.”
“I don’t; but I suppose I’ll have to learn.” Jonas echoed the chuckle. His highly cheerful expression evidenced the coming detail as being quite to his taste. “New York’s not much like it was when I was a young man and Mr. Brooke took me there with him once for a trip.”
Two pairs of bright eyes were turned on Jonas with an expression which bordered on reverence. It was something to marvel at – that this stately old man with his crown of thick, snowy hair had been the chosen traveling companion of Brooke Hamilton on a trip to New York. Miss Susanna watched them understandingly, experiencing a secret happiness in the unconscious girlish tribute offered her distinguished kinsman.
“It won’t take Jonas long to find his bearings,” she confidently predicted. “With the help of two or three workmen he can pack the library in short order. It will have to be stored at the Arms when it arrives, until the dormitory is completed. Jonas will see to having it shipped to the Arms by motor van. That will save time and extra handling. I want it here and off my mind before Christmas. I have received an invitation from a dear friend to spend Christmas with her and her family. I am thinking of accepting it.”
Miss Susanna peered mysteriously over her glasses at Marjorie and Jerry. She did not offer to divulge the name of the friend. Jonas raised a hand to his mouth as though to brush away a smile that flickered briefly upon his lips.
“Truly, Miss Susanna?” Marjorie cried out her pleasure of the announcement. Each year since she had come to know the old lady well she had invited her to spend the Christmas holidays at Castle Dean. On each occasion Miss Susanna had flatly refused to leave the Arms over the holidays, declaring that she would not consider the idea of passing Christmas Day away from her ancestral home.
“Yes, truly. You won’t need to worry this Christmas about my being lonely, child. I’m going back on my vow of years’ standing. I’ve found something stronger even than my love for the Arms. I’ve found the love of friends.” There was exultant triumph in Miss Hamilton’s forceful speech.
“I’m so glad,” Marjorie assured with hearty sincerity. Her cheery smile further conveyed her unenvious spirit at the news. She could only be glad because Miss Susanna had found such a boon. She surmised that through the friendly offices of Richard Garrett Miss Hamilton had come in touch again with the woman friend of whom she had just spoken. They had of course met in New York.
“Did you meet your friend in New York, Miss Susanna?” Jerry’s surprised curiosity got the better of her. “I don’t mean to be an old curiosity shop,” she instantly apologized, half laughing. “I scented an interesting story. I thought you might have met a girl chum whom you hadn’t seen for years and years.”
“No, Jerry; I did not meet my friend in New York.” Miss Susanna tried vainly to keep a sober face. The battery of bright, wondering eyes turned upon her proved too much for her. She laughed; a high, joyful little laugh in which Jonas’ deeper notes of amusement mingled. “I first met my friend on the road to the Arms; not such a long while ago,” she said with tender pride. “The interesting story of our friendship began with a broken basket handle and a young girl’s gracious courtesy toward a crusty old woman. I was very fortunate in meeting her. She turned out to be a royal young person who lived in a castle in the far country of Sanford. Since I’ve known her she’s often invited me to spend Christmas at Castle Dean. I’ve stayed at the Arms when I might have been happy in the royal palace of the King and Queen of Dean. I – ”
“Miss Susanna!” Marjorie and Jerry were now on their feet with a concerted jubilant shriek.
“Wait a second.” Miss Hamilton briefly warded off the impending, tumultuous embrace of two energetic pairs of arms. “One more remark; then you may hug me hard. Like all the rest of the world, I hope to be happy at Christmas time. I know I shall be – at Castle Dean.”
CHAPTER XXIII
A SIGNIFICANT DISCOVERY
“No, Beauty, I haven’t gone back on my word. How can you harbor such suspicions against a fine old Irish gentleman like myself? Such a regard as I have for you, yet you will doubt me.” Leila Harper rolled reproachfully sentimental eyes at Marjorie. “Since it is a Beauty contest you demand, your Celtic friend will rise to the occasion.”
“I wish you’d rise soon then.” Marjorie met Leila’s effusive promise with a coaxing smile.
“Name the day and the hour.” Leila gave vent to a resigned groan, quite at variance with her fulsome mood of the moment before.
“There you go. One minute you blow hot; the next cold.” Marjorie shook an arraigning finger before Leila’s face. “I’m going to take you at your word and name the day and hour. The day will be next Friday. The hour, eight P.M. The place, the gym, the promoters of the contest – ” Marjorie paused with a dubious, questioning look toward Leila.
“Aye, Beauty; there’s the rub!” Leila exclaimed. “The contest ought to be pulled off by either the sophs or freshies. We P. G.’s are beyond such trifling vanities. So some would be pleased to say we should be. Now we come to the reason why of things. I’m wisely in favor of letting the sophs perpetrate the beauty walk.”
“My own opinion,” Marjorie concurred. “How would you turn it over to them and still manage it, Leila. I mean the details. Only you know how to manage a Beauty contest like the one you got up long ago.”
“I’m going to be the power behind the throne and manage the contest through the Bertram girls,” Leila made shrewd declaration. “They are popular sophs. Besides they will do as I tell them. They’ll not spoil my fine arrangements.” Leila favored Marjorie with a whimsical grin. “Let me warn you, beforehand, Beauty. It will be dangerous for you to attend the contest.”
“Your warning is wasted. I shall sit in the gallery and watch the Beauty parade. Not because I imagine for a minute that I – that I – ” Marjorie stammered, growing suddenly rosy with confusion.
“That you would certainly win it if you appeared on the gym floor,” Leila finished with mischievous affability. “No fair decorating the gallery, Beauty. It’s a most important part you must play on the floor.”
“No, designing villain. You dragged me into one Beauty contest; but never again.” She wagged a decisive head at Leila who merely continued to beam on her.
“This time I have a fine plan for you,” Leila continued, unabashed. “You are to be one of the judges. I’ll paint lines of age on your lovely face; give you a snow-white frizzy wig and a shapeless brown bag of a gown to wear. Even your captain could not pick you out as a Dean. Now tell me, am I not your devoted Irish friend?” she demanded ingratiatingly.
“You’re a jewel, Leila Greatheart.” Marjorie’s face grew radiant. “The very thing I’ll like best. I’d forgotten all about the judges. Their were three of them at the other contest. It seems ages since that night, doesn’t it?”
Leila nodded. “Happy ages,” she said, a soft light shining from her bright blue eyes. “And you were not pleased with me that night, Beauty, for putting you in your rightful place on the campus.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Marjorie replied with smiling candor. “I recall that I was almost angry with you. I thought you did it merely to nettle the Sans. I thought you were very clever, but I wasn’t sure whether or not I truly liked you.”
“Ah, but I have won dozens of golden opinions from you, Beauty, since then. I will tell you something quite remarkable about myself. I am never disliked by a person who likes me.” Leila made the statement with due impressiveness.
“I’ll tell you something else. You’re an affable old fake, and I’ve been here just one-half hour longer than I intended to be.” Marjorie rose from the chair she had been occupying in Leila’s and Vera’s room. “I needed that half hour for a bout with a terrific bit of old French poetry. Now it’s gone – the hour, I mean. I wish the poetry was nil, too! And I’ve not opened my book! It’s almost dinner time, and after dinner we’re due at Silverton Hall to help Robin rehearse that house play. You hadn’t forgotten about it, had you?”
“I never forget anything I happen to remember,” was the re-assuring response.
“Then keep on remembering the Beauty contest,” begged Marjorie laughing. “This is Monday. I wish you could arrange it for Friday night. I’m so anxious for Miss Monroe to win it. It will strengthen her position on the campus.” Her lovely face grew suddenly serious. “You know so well the way I feel about her, Leila. I’d love to have her free herself from Leslie Cairns’ influence; to help her raise up a pride in herself that will place her above doing the contemptible things the Sans used to do.”
As she talked Marjorie’s voice took on a wistful earnestness which Leila found irresistible. She did not share Marjorie’s views concerning Doris Monroe. Nevertheless, Marjorie’s appeal to Leila for help in the difficult conquest of the more difficult sophomore was in itself sufficient cause for co-operation on Leila’s part.
“Watch the bulletin board tomorrow, and have no fears,” was Leila’s parting advice as Marjorie reached the door. “We shall meet again,” she added portentously.
“In about ten minutes; at dinner. And in my room, after dinner; and after that, on the campus; and still after that, at Silverton Hall,” flung back Marjorie over a shoulder as she went out the door. She ran lightly down the hall to her room, inspirited by Leila’s promise. She swung open the door with a gay little fling and entered to find Jerry deep in the perusal of a letter.
“I’m going to be one of the judges at the Beauty contest,” she breezily informed Jerry. “I forgot to ask Leila who she’d picked for the other two judges.”
“It’s a good thing for the Ice Queen that you are going to wear a disguise; efface your face from the college map for the time being,” Jerry commented, eyes still on her letter. “No judge rig-out for Jeremiah, I shall appear in all my fatal beauty. But I don’t expect to get a fair deal,” Jerry sighed loudly. “When is the momentous Beauty gathering to grace the gym?”
“Friday evening at eight.” Marjorie went on to recount hers and Leila’s recent conversation.
“You old politician. You’ve everything fixed for your candidate,” Jerry humorously accused. “What has become of the traditions of Hamilton? Shocking!”
“They’re right in the foreground, AS ALWAYS,” retorted Marjorie. “I’m neither old, nor a politician. Nothing has been fixed for my candidate. Yes; I’ll admit I have one,” she declared in answer to Jerry’s comically questioning glance. “Just the same, she can only succeed on her own merits. Giving her a chance to do that isn’t pulling strings for her.”
“I get you, Bean. I humbly apologize for any dark suspicions I may have entertained against you. You are a Bean of rare pulchritude, enterprise and integrity. You are not the only enterprising person on the campus, though. I hate to speak of myself, but – er-her-r, ahem!” Jerry loudly cleared her throat. “I’m a credit to the noble profession of the sleuth.” Her tone of raillery held an undernote of triumph. Her round face wore a victorious expression which Marjorie did not miss.
“What is it, Jeremiah? You’re brim full of something interesting. I know you’re aching to tell me. Do go ahead.”
“It’s about those two letters,” Jerry began abruptly. “I mean the two that were sent to you in the fall when the sophs were warring among themselves, and Gentleman Gus drew the class presidency.”
“I haven’t forgotten them,” Marjorie said dryly. “You said you’d find out all about them. Have you?” She gazed interestedly at Jerry. “Now I begin to understand why you were praising yourself,” she tacked on, with a teasing smile. “You’ll have just time to tell me before the dinner gong sounds. Go to it.” She dropped easily down upon her couch bed, eyes still intent on Jerry.
“You know, and so do I, that the sports committee letter was a fake. We decided that first thing. Well, I’ve not discovered who wrote it. I’m still suspicious of three different sets of girls on the campus. But I haven’t a shred of proof against any of them. Being an honorable sleuth I don’t prowl ignobly about the campus after my quarry. I set legitimate traps for ’em. I deduce in a scientific and marvelous manner. My methods are above reproach, but they take time.”
“So do your remarks,” Marjorie impolitely reminded. “The gong’s going to ring very, very soon.”
“Oh, is it? So glad you told me. My, but you are rude at times. This is one of ’em. Back to my subject. I never believed that Miss Walker wrote the letter to you signed with her name. I made up my mind to find out whether the handwriting was hers, but I failed to capture a specimen of her penmanship. I tried a half a dozen nice, lady-like little schemes. Not one worked. One day luck was with Jeremiah. I picked up a fine and fussy handkerchief, monogrammed, L.M.W.”
With one eye on the clock Jerry hurriedly recounted the writing of the note to Louise Walker and the subsequent mailing of it and the handkerchief to the sophomore.
“Here’s the answer. Found it in the bulletin board this P. M. Look at it. Next cast your eyes over this piece of bunk.” Jerry laid two unfolded letters on the study table for Marjorie to examine.
Marjorie obediently left the couch where she had cosily disposed her slim length. She reached Jerry’s side with one lithe bounce. Hastily she picked up the letter Jerry indicated. Then she read:
“Dear Miss Macy:
“How fortunate for me that you should have found my pet handkerchief! I bought it in Europe last summer of one of those wonderful Belgian lace makers. I prize it highly on account of the beauty of the embroidery. Consequently I rarely carry it. Broke my rule for once and lost it. I had no idea where. It is my good luck, and quite remarkable, I think, that you should have guessed the initials on it to be mine. Thank you for your courtesy. Assuring you of my appreciation,
“Yours very sincerely,“Louise May Walker.”As she finished reading Miss Walker’s impersonally friendly note of thanks Marjorie s eyes immediately sought the other letter. It was the hateful letter she had received directly after the sophomore election from Miss Walker. She had read if enough times to know it by heart.
“Why, Jerry!” she cried, letting the two letters flutter from her hand to the table. “She – Miss Walker – never wrote that miserably mean letter to me! It’s not written in the same hand as the note she wrote you about the handkerchief. We feel quite positive she wrote that note. So she couldn’t have written the other.”
“Of course she didn’t write it,” Jerry asserted. “I’ve been keeping an explorative P. G. eye on her since the basket ball season began. She has some fine traits, Marjorie.” Jerry nodded her head in sober confirmation of her opinion.
“I’m glad she didn’t write this.” Marjorie touched the condemnatory letter with the tip of a finger. She picked up both letters again and proceeded to a critical examination of the handwriting of each.
“I couldn’t be sure she had not until I had seen her handwriting. I hadn’t the least excuse for writing her, and I didn’t care to ask the girls to do it. I’d begun to harbor dark thoughts of waylaying her on the campus in the misty twilight and appropriating her note-book. She had a twice-a-week late trig period at Hamilton Hall. Then I found the handkerchief in the main corridor. Maybe Jeremiah wasn’t pleased with herself!” Jerry gave an elated little spin around on one heel. “I wrote her and enclosed the hankey, and this is the reward of honesty plus great forethought.” Jerry significantly tapped her forehead.
“I’m glad,” Marjorie said again; “glad you are a great detective, Jeremiah.” She smiled indulgently at Jerry. “But gladder still that Miss Walker never wrote that spiteful letter. I’m gladdest of all that it is more despicable even than if it were anonymous. It’s a forgery. A person so unprincipled as to commit such a forgery is too unprincipled to be dangerous.”
“Pearls of truth and wisdom, Bean. I get you, and agree with you,” Jerry returned the smile. “I hate to say it, but I know only one person who could qualify under that head – Leslie Hob-goblin Cairns.”
CHAPTER XXIV
HELPING THE GOOD WORK ALONG
The warning, brazen voice of the dinner gong, which Miss Remson rang but once before each meal, broke in upon Jerry’s pertinent surmise. It was a signal which called for postponing further conjecture in the matter.
“I’ve thought of Leslie Cairns more than once, Jerry, in connection with both those letters,” Marjorie confessed as Jerry took the letters Marjorie had carefully examined, folded them and tucked them into a small leather portfolio. “Perhaps it’s been unfair in me to judge her by past performances.”
“How could one help it? Come along, self-accusing Bean. I’m hungry enough to eat all the dinner on our table, and give the rest of you not a scrap. We’ll continue our amazing careers as private investigators tonight after the ten-thirty bell is heard in the land and a grateful hush has settled down on Room 15.”