Stanford Stories: Tales of a Young UniversityIrwin, Will
General
Stanford Stories: Tales of a Young University
Irwin, Will
College stories, American; Short stories; Stanford (Calif.) -- Fiction; Stanford University -- Fiction
"Even a love-affair," she snapped, "would benefit you more than the
substitute you have chosen! You are a nice one to argue the refinement
of the college girl! Are you refining yourself, your fraternity or your
favorite side of the student-body by carousing at Mayfield and carrying
the viciousness of that town to others where you may represent the
University?"
"Oh, I say!" protested the Glee Club man, uneasily, for Grind was on the
Committee; "don't be too hard on me."
"I'm sure you're unjust to Pellams," said the Chapter-mother, with a
troubled look at her black lamb, who wondered what was coming: "I don't
believe he----"
Miss Meiggs, peppering her rarebit deliberately, interrupted, with a
little toss of the head.
"I will ask Mr. Chase one question then." She gathered some of the
cheese upon her fork, and, balancing it midway to her mouth, went on
with a gloating clearness of enunciation. "Please tell us why you came
to the afternoon concert at the Chico Normal School this summer in a
colored shirt and your dress suit, and why you did not sing your part of
the program?"
"That's two questions," murmured Pellams. He could not look at Mrs.
Perkins, to whom he had made certain solemn promises before that very
trip; but his adversary had turned toward her with a look of righteous
triumph. So deftly that even Pellams barely saw it, Katharine reached
across him and peppered the forkful of rarebit just before the lips of
Miss Meiggs closed over it. His answer was overlooked.
Mrs. Perkins took the sufferer up to her own room and Katharine vanished
somewhere with Smith. When the tables were removed, a girl sat at the
piano; her song finished, she struck briskly into the "Hot Time," and
every one turned to Pellams. He sang the rag-time as though he were
bursting with fun, while the Chapter sat before him, beaming its
innocent gratitude. But the Glee Club man was singing to one guest
alone, and he could not see her, or Smith either. When two songs had
failed to bring her into view, he stole off upstairs unmolested and lay
for some time with his door locked, grinning before sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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