Bonnie grinned delightedly. "I am happy to meet you," she said, with a bow. "And perhaps you do not recognize us. I am Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and this is my friend Dr. Watson."
Dr. Watson bowed, and remarked that it was an unexpected pleasure. He had often heard of the famous lecturer, but had never hoped to meet her.
Miss Henderson, who was not very conversant with recent literature, looked more dazed than ever. It flashed across her mind that there was an insane asylum in the neighborhood, and the thought was not rea.s.suring.
"We"ll not handcuff you," said Bonnie, magnanimously, "if you"ll come with us quietly."
The lecturer, in spite of fervid protestations that she was a lecturer, presently found herself sitting on the fence, with a girl on either side grasping an elbow. A light was beginning to break upon her, together with a poignant realization of the fact that she was seeing more of the real college life than she cared for.
"What time is it?" she asked anxiously.
"Ten minutes past eight by my watch, but I think it"s a little slow,"
said Bonnie.
"I am afraid you"re going to be late for your lecture," said Priscilla.
"It seems a pity to waste it. Suppose you tell it to us instead."
"Yes, do," urged Bonnie. "I just dote on the Roman Forum."
The lecturer preserved a dignified silence, which was broken only by the croaking of the frogs and the occasional remarks of the two detectives.
She had relinquished all hope of ever seeing the Archaeological Society, and had philosophically resigned herself to the prospect of sitting on the fence all night, when suddenly there burst out from across the campus a song of victory, mingled with cheers and inarticulate yells.
At the first sound, Bonnie and Priscilla tumbled down from the fence, bringing the lecturer with them, and, each grasping her by a hand, they started to run. "Come on and see the fun," they laughed. "You"re perfectly welcome; it"s no secret any more." And, in spite of breathless protestations that she much preferred to walk, Miss Henderson found herself dashing across the campus in the direction of the sounds.
Heads suddenly appeared in the dormitory windows, doors banged, and girls came running from every quarter with excited exclamations: "The soph.o.m.ores are having their tree ceremonies!" "Where are the freshmen?"
"Why didn"t they get there?"
A crowd quickly gathered in the shadow of the trees and watched the scene with laughing interest. A wide circle of colored lanterns swayed in the breeze, and, within, a line of white-robed figures wound and unwound about a tiny tree to the music of a solemn chant.
"Isn"t it pretty? Aren"t you glad we brought you?" Bonnie demanded as they pushed through the crowd.
The lecturer did not answer, for she caught sight of the Latin professor hurrying toward them.
"Miss Henderson! I was afraid you were lost. It is nearly half-past eight. The audience has been waiting, and we have been filling in the time with reports."
For a moment the lecturer was silent, being occupied with an amused scrutiny of the faces of her captors; and then she rose to the occasion like a lady and a scholar, and delivered a masterly apology, with never a reference to her sojourn on the fence.
Bonnie and Priscilla stared at each other without a word, and as Miss Henderson was led away to the remnants of her audience Patty suddenly appeared.
"Good evening, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Did you solve your mystery?" she asked sweetly.
Priscilla turned her to the light and scrutinized her face.
Patty smiled back with wide-open, innocent eyes.
Priscilla knew the expression, and she shook her. "You little wretch!"
she exclaimed.
Patty squirmed out from under her grasp. "If you remember," she murmured, "I once said that the Lick Observatory was in Dublin, Ireland.
It was a very funny mistake, of course, but I know of others that are funnier."
"What do you mean?" Bonnie demanded.
"I mean," said Patty, "that I wish you never to mention the Lick Observatory again."
XV
Patty and the Bishop
The dressing-bell rang for Sunday morning service, and Patty laid down her book with a sigh and went and stood by the open window. The outside world was a shimmering green and yellow, the trees showed a feathery fringe against the sky, and the breeze was redolent of violets and fresh earth.
"Patty," called Priscilla, from her bedroom, "you"ll have to hurry if you want me to fasten your dress. I have to go to choir rehearsal."
Patty turned back with another sigh, and began slowly unhooking her collar. Then she sat down on the edge of the couch and stared absently out of the window.
A vigorous banging of bureau drawers in Priscilla"s room was presently followed by Priscilla herself in the doorway. She surveyed her room-mate suspiciously. "Why aren"t you dressing?" she demanded.
"I"ll fasten my own dress; you needn"t wait," said Patty, without removing her eyes from the window.
"Bishop Copeley"s going to preach to-day, and he"s such an old dear; you mustn"t be late."
Patty elevated her chin a trifle and shrugged her shoulders.
"Aren"t you going to chapel?"
Patty brought her gaze back from the window and looked up at Priscilla beseechingly. "It"s such a lovely day," she pleaded, "and I"d so much rather spend the time out of doors; I"m sure it would be a lot better for my spiritual welfare."
"It"s not a question of spiritual welfare; it"s a question of cuts.
You"ve already over-cut twice. What excuse do you intend to give when the Self-Government Committee asks for an explanation?"
""Sufficient unto the day,"" laughed Patty. "When the time comes I"ll think of a beautiful new excuse that will charm the committee."
"You ought to be ashamed to evade the rules the way you do."
"Where is the fun of living if you are going to make yourself a slave to all sorts of petty rules?" asked Patty, wearily.
"I don"t know why you have a right to live outside of rules any more than the rest of us."
Patty shrugged. "I take the right, and every one else can do the same."
"Every one else can"t," returned Priscilla, hotly, "for there wouldn"t be any law left in college if they did. I should a good deal rather play out of doors myself than go to chapel, but I"ve used up all my cuts and I can"t. You couldn"t either if you had a shred of proper feeling left.
The only way you can get out of it is by lying."
"Priscilla dear," Patty murmured, "people in polite society don"t put things quite so baldly. If you would be respected in the best circles, you must practise the art of equivocation."