"Briarhurst tries to fit the girls to take a definite place in the world, to help them live the kind of life worth living," the Dean said calmly.
"We don't say we fit you to immediately take charge of whatever line of endeavor you go into when your four years here are up. All we try to do is give you the prime essentials for your life—courage, determination, ambition, the desire to play fair and to take gallantly whatever life offers you."
She smiled gently.
"What is the matter, Gale?"
Gale blinked, pulled out of her thoughts.
"Matter?"
"You have been sitting there politely listening," the Dean said humorously, "but I doubt if a word I've said has remained in your memory."
"Oh—I assure you it has," Gale said quickly.
"Are you still nervous about meeting—the Dean?" the older woman asked.
She stood and walked around the desk toward Gale.
Gale rose as well.
"I'm sorry if I was rude this morning," she said in embarrassment. "I had no idea—"
"That I was the Dean?" the woman finished softly.
Gale flushed.
"If I hadn't told you," the Dean added with a faint smile, "you might have let the canoe drift over the falls, is that it?"
She paused immediately.
"I'm sorry. That was a terrible thing to say."
She touched Gale's shoulder lightly.
"This isn't the type of interview I usually have with a freshman."
"I gathered that much," Gale said, smiling.
After a moment, she hesitated.
"You aren't really worried about what the girls are saying, are you?"
"No," the Dean said gently as she walked her to the door. "Not really worried."
At the doorway, she added warmly,
"Goodbye, my dear—and come to see me often. As a friend, if not in my official capacity."
Gale stepped outside.
The world was glowing red under the setting sun.
And she thought—
What a remarkable woman Dean Travis was.
She had a presence that made you want to become your best self.
Gale did not doubt that, in time, she would win over every girl at Briarhurst.
She was too kind.
Too composed.
Too understanding not to be loved.
A hand suddenly touched Gale's arm.
She startled.
"Did I frighten you?" a laughing voice asked.
Doctor Norcot fell into step beside her.
"I waited for you," she added casually, glancing around.
Gale noticed a few girls across the campus watching them.
She hoped they weren't the Adventure Girls.
Otherwise—
She would never hear the end of it.
"I wanted to ask you more about that cut rope," the Doctor said.
"Cut rope?" Gale repeated. "Oh—you mean the canoe."
"Yes. Are you positive it was cut?"
Gale nodded firmly.
"There's no doubt. The rope was new. The edge was clean—straight. Not frayed at all. It had been cut."
"Did Dean Travis tell you about it?"
"Yes."
"You haven't told anyone, have you?"
"No," Gale said, puzzled. "But why shouldn't I? Anyone looking at the canoe will see it."
"Freshmen have enough on their minds without adding other people's troubles," the Doctor said lightly.
"Good afternoon, Miss Howard."
Gale watched her walk away toward the infirmary.
Her expression slowly shifted from annoyance to amusement.
"What a polite way of telling me to mind my own business," she murmured.
Then she smiled.
"But I still want to know why that rope was cut."
She turned and walked toward the sorority house.
The building stood gray and ivy-covered against the sunset.
Golden light shimmered through the leaves.
"Happiness House," Gale said softly.
What a perfect name.
Peaceful.
Bright.
Full of harmony.
At least—so far.
She stepped inside.
Several girls were gathered around the piano.
One held a ukulele.
As Gale walked toward the stairs, the girl began to sing:
"There was a happy young freshman,
Who rescued the Dean from the water,
But alas and alack, now the freshman is sad,
Cause she did something she hadn't oughter."
Gale laughed and hurried upstairs.
The rhyme was terrible—but amusing.
As she reached her door—
A sudden, loud, blood-curdling yell echoed through the hallway.
Gale stopped and covered her ears.
Doors flew open.
Heads poked out.
She opened her room door.
Inside—
Phyllis was laughing helplessly on the bed.
Another girl was perched astride the footboard like a horse.
"What on earth—" Gale began.
"My roommate!" Phyllis gasped.
"Howdy!" the girl said cheerfully, still seated on the bed frame. She extended a hand. "I'm Ricky Allen. I'm from Wyoming."
"I'm glad to meet you," Gale said, laughing despite herself. "But would you mind explaining that noise?"
Phyllis wiped her eyes.
"Ricky was demonstrating a cowboy roundup yell."
There was a knock at the door.
"Who is being murdered?" Adele Stevens asked calmly from outside.
Gale shook her head.
"Only a cowboy war-whoop. We've got it under control."
When Adele left, Ricky grinned.
"Reckon I'm gonna like this place now," she said. "I was homesick for my ranch."
"I understand the Dean is planning to add stables and horses," Gale said.
"Yipeeee!" Ricky shouted.
"That'll be wonderful!"
And before anyone could say more—
She was gone.
Just as suddenly as she had appeared.
Gale and Phyllis looked at each other.
And burst out laughing.