College stories; Women college students -- Fiction
This they did, and though, of course, each thought her husband much the
handsomer and more distinguished-looking, still they were very
affectionate toward each other, and planned to be at Cowes together the
next summer for the yachting.
As has been said, their estrangement happened very suddenly and came
about by an unfortunate occurrence one morning in the office of the
college.
Anyone who has never had the privilege of being in that office on a
Monday morning, just after chapel, can have but a faint idea of
pandemonium. The whole seven hundred students seem to be revolving
about. There are the young women standing around, waiting to take the
next train into Boston, not having been able to go on the early express
because they had foolishly forgotten to get a leave of absence on the
Saturday previous, and who are furtively trying not to see their friends
who are not going on at all, so as to keep from having to attend to
their commissions; and there is the girl who is telephoning for roses to
wear at the concert that night, and those who are booking boats and
tennis courts, and others reading bulletins; and when there is an extra
commotion and the crowd is forced back a little to let the cords be
pulled up around the desk so as to clear a space; and when the carrier
comes in and tumbles the big mail-bags into the middle of it with one
hand and unlocks them at apparently the same instant with the other; and
when about ten young women fall upon the bags and rend their contents
from them, and begin to assort and number and tie up the letters, all
the time besieged by their excluded friends to give them their mail on
the spot as they are going away, the noise and excitement reach a
climax.
But it is all very pleasant and enlivening except the telephone bell,
which rings constantly and is wearing on the nerves. It rings not only
for all telephone messages but for all telegrams, for the college, being
a mile or so from the telegraph station, everything is simply telephoned
up to save delays, and that a long and continuous procession of small
messenger boys may not be forever circulating between the college and
the station.
It was this unfortunate custom of telephoning telegrams, unknown of
course to the majority of outsiders, that precipitated the affair. On
that particular Monday morning, when the confusion in the office was at
its worst, the telephone bell suddenly rang unusually loudly and long,
and the nervous Freshman on duty jumped toward it with a warning motion
to the rest to keep quiet.
“Hush! it’s a telegram,” she said in a moment, and instantly there was
silence, for a telegram is always dreaded where there are so many to
whom it could bear ill news. She reached for a pad of paper and a pencil
to take it down. From the other end came “Important. Repeat slowly as I
deliver it.” The nervous Freshman said “All right,” and braced herself
against the support to write.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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