The Little Colonel's Chum: Mary Ware by Annie Fellows Johnston


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Page 11

"She's a bright little thing," Miss Chilton reported to Madam afterward,
"The kind of a girl who is bound to be popular in a school, just because
she's so different and interesting."

"She is more than that," answered Madam, smiling over the recollection
of some of her quaint speeches. "She is lovable. She has 'the divine
gift of making friends,'"




CHAPTER III

ROOM-MATES


Up in her orderly room, on opening day, Mary listened to the bustle of
arrivals, and the stir of unpacking going on all over the house. The
cordial greetings called back and forth from the various rooms and the
laughter in the halls made her long to have a part in the general
sociability. She wished that it were necessary for her to borrow a
hammer or to ask information about the trunk-room and the porter, as the
other new girls were doing. That would give her an excuse for going into
some of the rooms and making acquaintance with their occupants. But
everything was in absolute order, and she was already familiar with the
place and its rules. There was nothing for her to do but take out her
bead-work and occupy herself with that as best she could until the
arrival of her room-mate.

She set her door invitingly open, ready to meet more than half way any
advances her neighbours might choose to make. While she sorted her beads
she amused herself by fitting together the scraps of conversation which
floated her way, and making guesses as to the personality of the
speakers. Twice her open door brought the reward of a transient visitor.
Once a jolly Sophomore glanced in to say "I just wanted to see who has
the American Beauty room. That's what we called it last term when Kitty
Walton and Lloyd Sherman had it."

Soon after, a girl across the hall whom Mary had already identified as
one Dora Irene Derwent, called Dorene for short, darted in
unceremoniously with an agonized plea for a bit of court-plaster.

"I cut my finger on a piece of glass in a picture frame that got broken
in my trunk," she explained, unwinding her handkerchief to see if the
bleeding had stopped. "I can't find my emergency case, and Cornie Dean
never was known to keep anything of the sort. All the other rooms are so
upset I knew it was of no use to apply to them."

Happy that such an opportunity had come at last and that she could
supply the demand, Mary examined the injured finger and began to trim a
strip of plaster the required size. At the moment of cutting herself
Dorene had dropped the broken glass, but for some unaccountable reason
had thrust the frame under her arm, and was holding it hugged tight to
her side by her elbow. Now as she put out her hand for Mary's
inspection, she sat down on the edge of the bed, and let the frame slip
from her grasp to the counterpane. The photograph side lay uppermost,
and Mary, glancing at it casually, gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Why, it's _Betty_! Betty Lewis! Do _you_ know her?"

"Well, rather!" was the emphatic answer. "She was my crush all my
Freshman year. I suppose you know what that means if you've ever had a
case yourself. I simply adored her, and could hardly bear to come back
the next year because she was graduated and gone. I haven't seen her
since, but you can imagine my delight when I found her name in this
year's catalogue, as one of the teachers. We never imagined she'd teach,
for she has such a wonderful gift for writing; but it will be simply
delightful to have her back again. She's such a dear. But where did
_you_ happen to know her?" she added as an afterthought. "Are you from
Lloydsboro Valley, too?"

"No, but I visited there once at Lloyd Sherman's home where Betty lives.
Lloyd's mother is Betty's god-mother, you know, and Betty's mother was
my sister Joyce's god-mother. We're all mixed up that way on account of
our mothers being old school friends, as if we were related. Of course,
I shall call her Miss Lewis before the other girls. Mamma says it
wouldn't be showing proper respect not to. But it's such a comfort to be
able to call her Betty behind the scenes. She came yesterday. Last night
she was up in my room for more than an hour with me, talking about the
places and people we both know in the valley. It made me so happy I
could hardly go to sleep. Elise Walton came with her, Kitty's sister,
you know."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Fri 7th Feb 2025, 1:12