Beginning, Section II

"Oil Thigh Na Banrign"- Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that dependent students in possession of high school diplomas, must be in want of further occupation.

However little known the aspirations and life plans of such dependents may be on their leaving the commencement ceremony, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of their parental figures, that those fortunate enough to bare the tuition hikes are sent off to obtain another diploma; this time a bachelor's from an university.

"Wake up girls! We're almost there!" Called the girls' aunt from the front seat of a pick up truck.

The first to be roused was a girl with dark expressive eyes framed by lilting lashes. She looked out the window as the truck slowed to exit the highway.

"Sir John A. MacDonald Blvd." She read aloud to herself.

"Ah, Lizzy! You woke up. Did you have a nice nap?" Asked her aunt, who looked at her from the rear view mirror.

Lizzy nodded, "Yeah, thanks for asking Aunt Fanny. How much further before we get to the campus?"

"Oh, probably not much longer," answered Aunt Fanny. "You might want to wake Jane up now. Don't want to miss the sights."

Lizzy grimaced. What sights? Back home in British Columbia, there were mountains, rivers, lakes, and the ocean to look at. Ever since she landed in Toronto, she has seen little to remind her of home. Sighing, she looked out the window again. There was no point in waking her sister up to see more dry fields and wind stunted tree. Suddenly, a sign caught her eye as they drove under an overpass. The truck passed the sign too quickly for her to read it. She did see however, the eyesore of a person dyed completely purple standing on the overpass waving and shouting at the cars below. Perhaps she ought to wake her sister after all.

"Jane!" She shook her sister, "Hey Jane wake up. We're almost there."

Jane opened her eyes timidly. They were of the same colour as her younger sister, but in a lighter shade. The expression of her eyes, unlike Lizzy, reflected less wit and vivacity, but a general placid disposition.

"How long have I been asleep?" Asked Jane yawning and stretching.

Lizzy shrugged, "I don't know. I just woke up too. Hey, look out the window!" They had gotten closer to campus and the scene outside the window had suddenly transformed into a circus. There were purple people everywhere! Some wore kilts with purple dyed leather jackets, despite the humid weather. Others wore plaid shorts with a black top and army boots slamming their leather jackets on the ground.

Unconsciously, Jane shifted closer to Lizzy. "What's going on?"

A chuckle came from the front seat, "Don't you worry, girls," reassured Aunt Fanny. "It's only the engineers. I think these are the Pseudo-frecs. Aren't they great?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes. Great, was not the word she would have chosen to describe them. She was thinking more along the lines of grotesque, freakish, and traumatizing.

Always in character, Jane answered her aunt with an enthusiastic comment, "Yeah, they must have put a lot of time into this. I'm sure they'll make this day really memorable."

Lizzy groaned, "Yeah, so memorable that I'll need to go through therapy after..." She was silenced by Jane's foot delivering a subtle kick to her shin. The truck then stopped at a traffic light and a purple person came up to the window and tapped. Aunt Fanny rolled down the window.

"How many Froshies?" he yelled. Lizzy wondered why he felt the need to yell into a car when talking in a normal tone would be more suitable, not the mention less damaging to the ears.

"Two." Answered Aunt Fanny in an attempt to be useful.

"What faculty?" he asked in the same loudness as before.

"ArtSci."

"Ah. Then you'll need these," he said handing Aunt Fanny two pieces of paper. Grinning, he hurried off to harass the next car. Aunt Fanny looked down at the papers, let out a whoop, and began to cackle uncontrollably.

The girls looked at each other and shrugged. "What is it?" asked Lizzy. Aunt Fanny wiped a tear from her eye and handed the papers to Lizzy. She looked over the papers and frowned, "It's a application to work at MacDonald's."

"Isn't it funny?" demanded Aunt Fanny, who had finally regained control over herself. "What a good joke. Ah, welcome to college life girls."

Lizzy, however, did not think it was such a good joke. She glared and started to refute her aunt's comments when Jane gave her arm a squeeze to check her temper. "Surely you can see this is just a joke," whispered Jane.

"Yes, but it isn't very funny. It's insulting, can't you see?" Lizzy whispered back through clenched teeth. "If this is what college life is here, then I'm at the wrong university regardless of the scholarship."

Jane sighed, "Oh Lizzy, wherever you go there is going to be interfaculty prejudice. Aunt Fanny is right. This is all part of college life. You shouldn't take these kinds of things too seriously. "Lighten up. Where's your sense of humour?"

"I left it behind in B.C."

Oil Thigh Na Banrgin - Chapter 1 (ii)

The family of Dashwood had been long settled in Alberta. Their oil fields were extensive, and their drilling company was at Edmonton, in the centre of their rigs, where, for many decades, they had reaped in so large a fortune as to promote them in the social hierarchy among their general acquaintance. The owner of this oil company was a married man, who lived contentedly with his wife and three daughters, until a mistress entered the household in the shape of a tennis instructor. Within six months, Mr. Dashwood had purchased a penthouse in downtown Edmonton, divorced Mrs. Dashwood, released all custody of his three children, and proposed to the voluptuous tennis instructor.

No sooner was the divorce finalized, than the soon-to-be Mrs. Dashwood, without waiting for the removal of Mrs. Dashwood and her girls, arrived at the Dashwood mansion with her toy poodle, make-up boxes, and racks of short skirts. They had every right to evict her from the house; but to avoid confrontation with tactless mistress, who would have had difficulties comprehending the legal implications of her actions, Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters hastily vacated the house and installed themselves in the nearest motel.

Fortunately, with the help of a cousin in the real-estate business, Mrs. Dashwood quickly found a home and stable employment with which to support herself and her three daughters. Their lifestyle, although it was not as extravagant as before, was soon comfortable enough for Mrs. Dashwood to send her eldest daughter, Elinor, to Queen's University, and purchase a piano for her musically gifted second daughter, Marianne. A year later, Marianne was awarded a scholarship from Queen's University to study music there. This was another financial blessing for Mrs. Dashwood and allowed her, much to her dismay, to enroll her athletically inclined third daughter, Margaret, in tennis lessons.

This September, Mrs. Dashwood drove to the airport with her three daughters and returned to her modest townhouse with only one. The departure of both girls saddened her greatly, but the absence of Marianne was felt more acutely. Marianne was very much her mother's child. They had similar taste, disposition, and temperament. Moreover, both mother and daughter were prone to idealized notions of life. Mrs. Dashwood was sure that Marianne would look out onto campus from her first university dormitory and say...

"Elinor, this sucks." Exclaimed Marianne with a dust rag clenched under her slender fingers. "You know, this wasn't what I expected university life to be. Hey, you have got to come and see the mess that's going on outside. It's a miracle that we were able to get through that chaos and get up here in one piece!"

Sighing, Elinor rose from the suitcase she was unpacking and joined her sister at the window. She was immediately assaulted by the intrusively loud rap music being emitted from some unknown source. Marianne shifted to give her sister a better view from the window. Below them, people were busy milling around carrying gravity defying stacks of boxes and crates packed with 'college essentials'. Red, yellow, and blue balloons tied to student painted signs floated lazily in time with the subtle autumn breeze. Purpled people with metallically-coloured hair wandered along the sidewalks, stopping only to slam their leather jackets on the ground. Somewhere, someone was calling to their parents for help in turning off a car alarm that was miraculously bleating in time with the rap music! A cart rumbled down the hall behind them and both girls turned to look. It was stacked with materials that Elinor would have deemed unnecessary. A box overturned and tumbled off the side of the trolley. Marianne watched as a girl advance to pick it up.

"No, no. I'll get that," said a man appearing from behind the girl. Deftly, he scooped up the box and placed it back into the pile on the trolley. The girl smiled up at him in return, "Thanks dad!" The father placed his arm around his daughter's shoulders as they continued down the hall, oblivious of the trembling figure who had been watching them with her azure eyes brimming with tears.

However, before Marianne could turn to her sister to pour out her lamentations their first visitor knocked politely on their open door. "Hi girls," she greeted brightly, "How are you two today?"

"Fine, thanks," answered Elinor hoping Marianne's wells of tears would not overflow just yet.

"I'm Anne Elliot, the residence don on this floor."

Marianne had wisely turned to face the window to wipe away her tears, so Elinor made the introduction for the both of them.

Anne looked over at Marianne, and smiled knowingly at Elinor who could only nod back. "Well, I just dropped by to introduce myself and remind you two that we are holding our first floor meeting this afternoon at two. We'll be making our formal introductions there and it'll give you and opportunity to meet some of the other girls on the floor."

"That sounds great. We'll definitely be there," said Elinor with genuine cheerfulness. Perhaps a floor meeting will distract Marianne from the whining she has been doing ever since they arrived at Lester B. Pearson Airport. Anne seemed to have read her mind for she gave Elinor a sly grin and discreetly left the sisters alone again.

Elinor slowly approached Marianne and wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. Marianne returned the gesture and sniffled.

"It's a lot to take in at one time, isn't it?" asked Elinor.

Marianne nodded, "I never thought that our room would be this small and the campus would be this disorganized. I wish I never came away at all!"

Elinor candidly rolled her eyes to herself. This was not the first time Marianne had complained about the size of their room and the chaotic atmosphere of the campus. "Dearest, I told you an economy double would be a little snug. After we decorate, you won't think it's small at all."

"How can we decorate when you refused to let me bring any accessories?" Asked Marianne bitterly, "You kept telling mom and I to stick to bringing essential only. You might be able to live on nothing Elinor, but I would have liked to have a little something to remind me of home."

Knowing that Marianne's temper was fishing for a quarrel Elinor mentioned the one thing that she knew would make amends for their small but economically wise room. "There's going to be a sidewalk sale on Saturday. We can go shipping for decorations then."

As was predicted, Marianne's eyes brightened. She turned abruptly to scrutinize the prospects of their room, and stopped in front of Elinor who had been watching Marianne's sudden change in mood with some amusement. "Would you mind if I took the top bunk?"

Elinor consented with her good-natured laugh. Marianne beamed and dove into their sack of bed linen. All evidence of her previous grievances had dissolved into a child-like mirth. The girls giggled in their usual sisterly way as they both returned to preparing for the year ahead.

Oil Thigh Na Banrgin - Chapter 1 (III)

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and ambitious, with a comfortable home and a happy disposition seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly nineteen years in Toronto with very little to distress or vex her.

She was the youngest of the two daughters of a most affectionate, indulgent father, and had, in consequence of her parents divorce and custody battles, been raised as an only child from a very early period. Her lack of contact with her only sibling, who had removed to South Africa with her mother when Emma was only three, was replaced with the son of Mr. Woodhouse's old family friend.

Twenty years had the Knightley family been an acquaintance of Mr. Woodhouse. George Knightley, the only child of the Knightleys', was often invited to visit Mr. Woodhouse, less as a friend than a son to Mr. Woodhouse and an older brother to Emma. Over the years, George Knightley became an indispensable part of the Woodhouse family activities. When Emma was accepted into Queen's University, George Knightley was called upon to join Mr. Woodhouse in helping Emma settle into her first university dormitory.

"Knightley, are you done yet?" asked Emma, as she nudged playfully at a pair of lanky legs protruding out from under her desk.

"Emma, you really shouldn't call me that in public." Scolded Knightley emerging from under Emma's desk, his tall form bent in an awkward position. "And why am I doing this for you in the first place? You ought to learn how to put your computer together yourself."

Emma gave Knightley an arch look and replied in her sweetest voice, "Because you're just such a nice person, and so talented at these things... Now get back to work!" George Knightley opened his mouth to protest, but he only shook his head and returned to his post under the table. Emma smiled triumphantly and continued in her teasing of George Knightley's legs with her foot as she sing-songed her pet name for him. She stopped when she heard a knock on the door.

Harriet Smith, the occupant of the other side of the room, who thus far had been ignored by Emma, rushed to let in their guest.

"Hi Harriet!" greeted their visitor. Emma knitted her brows in disapproval. Harriet was already known on this floor while she was still a nameless face. Emma was determined that things would not remain this way for long. Hitching up her blonde ponytail in a way that always meant business with Emma, she bounded over to her first visitor and introduced herself.

The visitor smiled, "So, you are Harriet's roommate. Hi, I'm Ann Taylor, the floor senior on this floor. Harriet moved in yesterday and has been really excited about meeting you."

Emma's heart softened a little toward the stout figure that was looking at her timidly with puppy-like eyes. "Oh, well... I'm just getting settled around here. I'm sure we'll get to know each other really well before long."

At the sound of the words 'floor senior', Mr. Woodhouse, who had been sitting looking neglected on Emma's well-made bed, suddenly hurried toward Ann, intent on being reassured that Emma's comfort and safety would be well looked after. Ann attempted to soothe Mr. Woodhouse's fears through descriptions of the various security services available to the students after dusk, but Mr. Woodhouse's nerves could not be contented until dear little Emma had promised never to venture out at all after dark. Emma dutifully complied with her father's requests with a playful look at Ann and Harriet, indicative of her intentions to break her solemn vow to her father. Ann passed Emma a knowing look in return, and upon consulting her watch, reminded them of the floor meeting in half an hour, and quickly took her leave to prepare the common room for the introductions of fifty or so girls.

"Well, Emma," said George Knightley, who had been crouching diligently occupied with Emma's computer, "Your computer is all hooked up. And I think your father and I had better get going if the floor meeting is in half an hour." This proposal to leave Emma so abruptly took Mr. Woodhouse by surprise and he petitioned to George Knightly for them to stay a few more hours. He wanted to see dear little Emma fully settled. Emma's health is not strong; what if the new surroundings and a roommate did not agree with her? No, they must stay to make sure Emma does not have one of her headaches and lethargy from the activities of the day.

But George Knightley would not indulge Mr. Woodhouse's pleas. "Emma's health is quite sound, sir." He looked over at Emma's tall confident stature and turned back to Mr. Woodhouse with a smile, "Look at her! She's the model of health and happiness."

Emma laughed aloud in delight at George Knightley's attempt to reason with her father. "Knightley's right, dad. I'll be just fine." Then lowering her voice, she added in an ominous tone, "Besides, it'll be getting dark pretty soon. You don't want to be driving on the highway in the dark, do you?"

"Oh, that's right, sir," agreed George Knightley, "It takes almost three hours to drive back to Toronto, and by then, it'll be dark. The highway is very dangerous to navigate in the dark, especially when we get to Toronto."

Mr. Woodhouse started with the realization that he had not thought of that before. George Knightley was right; they must leave immediately. In fact, he thought he saw the sky darken a little just now.

Emma and George Knightley gave each other congratulatory grins at their team triumph. Slowly, they edged toward the door allowing Mr. Woodhouse ample time to sigh, shake his head, and shuffle in their direction.

The farewells the father and daughter bade each other were, needless to say, tearful. Mr. Woodhouse begged his dear little Emma to take care of herself and call home everyday. Emma, in between her tears and sniffles, promised that she would and implored her father not to worry about her and take care of himself too. After many lingering embraces, Mr. Woodhouse finally stepped aside to let George Knightley say his good-byes to Emma.

"Here," he said handing Emma his handkerchief.

Emma dried her eyes and looked up at George Knightley. He had been her protector, advisor, and best friend ever since she could remember. What was she supposed to say to him?

"Well?"

"Well what?

"I guess this is goodbye until whenever."

"It'll pass quickly, I promise."

"Call me sometime?"

He nodded and hoped Emma could not see how hard it was for him to leave her. Not knowing who initiated the act first, he was soon holding Emma, with her arms wrapped tightly around him. He knew she must be crying again, and felt his own tears stinging in his eyes. Forcing them back, he said with more lightness than he felt, "Come now. You told me you weren't going to cry when you said goodbye to me."

"Oh, shut up," Came Emma's voice muffled in his jacket. Sniffling, she emerged from his arms, "And just to spite you, I'm not going to cry anymore Knightley, so there!"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"What would you prefer me to call you? Mister Knightley?"

There was a pause as George Knightley stood contemplating Emma with his penetrating hazel eyes. Finally, he spoke again, "I'm not that much older than you, am I?"

Emma cocked her head as if to scrutinize him from a different angle, "No, not really. So, we'll just have to stick with good ol' Knightley."

"Hmph, I hope you would have learned how to respect your elders the next time I see you," said George Knightley with a mock frown.

"Aww, Mr. Knightley. Don't scold," said Emma with a playful look. The short verbal sparring had raised her spirits.

George Knightley again attempted to retort, but before he could, Mr. Woodhouse began to beckon him to hurry before it gets too dark to drive home. With a smile of familiar affection and a shake of his head, George Knightley said goodbye to Emma again and turned to lead Mr. Woodhouse out of the dormitory, hearing the door close softly behind him.

Oil Thigh Na Banrgin - Chapter 1 (iv)

By precisely two o'clock, the girls of McNeill 4 were all assembled in the fourth floor common room, eager to meet the people who would be sharing this milestone with them. They were sprawled in various positions around the room, making light conversation with whoever would listen, stopping occasionally to grin at their parents who were looming anxiously at the doorway and hoping they had raised a socially adept child.

Two girls bustled into the common room carrying bags of chips and cookies, cans of soda, and a plastic tub of gummy bears. "Sorry, we're late," they said as they maneuvered toward the coffee table to set the snacks down. "We brought some provisions to help us through the day."

When they had arranged the food on the table, they turned to face the group. The first to speak was a girl who looked a few years older than the others. Her maturity was contrasted by her petite stature, lending her an air of fairy-like grace and delicacy.

"Welcome to McNeill, everybody," she began. "As some of you already know, my name is Anne Elliot, and I'm the residence don on this floor. You're probably all wondering what a don is and what they do, and to tell you the truth, I didn't really know until I became one myself." Here, she stopped to survey the ring of smiles around her. "Anyways, in a nut shell, I'm here to help you all adjust to university and residence life. If you have any questions or need any advice during the year, feel free to come and knock on my door. I'm in room 415, which is just down the hall from here. There's a big sign outside my door, you can't miss it." Anne looked over at the girl who had hurried into the room with her, signaling her cue.

The girl cleared her throat and, without her knowing, nervously wrung her hands before she spoke. "Hi, my name is Ann Taylor. Let me say right now that Anne and I were coincidentally put together. We weren't deliberately trying to make life difficult around here by having the same name. Besides, my name is spelt A-N-N, without the E." She pondered for a second and said, "Actually, this might be easier for you gals, because you only have to learn one name. Either way, you'll get someone who will come to your rescue." She was interrupted by the laughter of the girls at the idea of their need to be 'rescued'. Ann smiled politely in return and continued, "I'm the floor senior and basically I'm here to make sure that the residence rules are followed. This also means that I'm responsible for handing out fines to the unfortunate people who break some of the residence policies."

"Are there a lot of rules in residence?" asked a girl from the group.

"Yes and no," answered Ann, "The rules are reasonable ones that were put in place to make sure that it won't always be one party doing all the compromising during conflicts. Most of the rules are based on common sense such as talking quietly and no loud music after one o'clock in the morning. Others are a little more abstract, such as no open beer bottles in the halls, and no body dye in the residence buildings. You'll find out more about the residence rules in the house meeting later on this afternoon. Does this answer your question?" The girl nodded in returned and both Annes turned to face the food-lavished table.

"We were going to have everyone go around introducing themselves," began Anne when she her voice was drowned out by groans from every corner of the room. "But we all know how uncomfortable that is. So why don't we all just eat the food and mingle?"

"Yes, please," came an exasperated voice from a corner of the room.

"Good," said Anne motioning towards the food, "Come on then, everyone."

There were a few polite hesitations from the girls before they made a selection from the table. Everyone knew the importance of first impressions; unfortunately, this led to a mutual quiescence from overactive fears that common conversation might be considered too vociferous. After a few awkward moments, however, small groups in comfortable conversation began to pepper the room. Both Annes looked around in satisfaction, but their surveillance spotted two members of the floor who were not chatting amongst the groups. The two girls were cowering in a corner with the tub of gummy bears between them. They seemed particularly interested in a group of girls standing close to them, and every once in a while, would steal a glance at the two Annes and begin whispering furiously with each other. Gradually, their whispering became more distinct until finally the whole room could hear them.

"No way! You're so kidding me!" said one of the girls.

The other shook her head, "No, really, Jackie. Look carefully. Do see the resemblance?"

They stopped to stare at the group and the Annes again. "Oh, my God! You're right! Tell me I'm not dreaming. Tell me I'm not dreaming! Pinch me, Tina! Pinch me and wake me up!" Tina dutifully complied and was met with a screeching yelp from Jackie.

"Well, you told me to pinch you."

"Yes, but not that hard!" Jackie rubbed her arm, "Ow, this is going to bruise."

By this time, the whole of McNeill 4 was staring at the bickering girls. "Jackie, are you okay?" asked Anne with some amusement.

"Er, yeah, just peachy," answered Jackie taking a swipe at Tina with her forearm. "Sorry, about our outburst. We'll just go and uh... mingle now."

"Yeah, mingle," agreed Tina with forced enthusiastic nods. The two girls with their tub of gummy bears joined the group they had been studying with great interest before their scuffle.

Lizzy was the first to welcome Tina and Jackie to their group. "You two look like you knew each other before you came here."

"We do," said Tina. "We met each other when we were at McNeill in our fir..." She was abruptly interrupted by a throbbing pain in her toes.

Jackie answered for her with an angelic smile. "We were at McNeill for camp one year. That's how we got to know each other."

"So where are you two from?"

"Vancouver," said Tina.

"Toronto," said Jackie.

"That's quite a distance between the two of you," observed Emma, "Why did you come to all the way to Queen's for camp, Tina?"

"Well... um... I don't remember anymore."

Jackie rolled her eyes and twitched her arm as if to smack Tina again, but this time, Tina dodged out of the way. The group exchanged looks of amusement between them at the girls' vaudeville act.

"Oh, we forgot to introduce ourselves." Lizzy recollected. "My name is Elizabeth Bennet but everyone calls me Lizzy. I'm..." She was interrupted by the sound of someone coughing and gasping for breaths. Tina, who had been munching away at the gummy bears, had suddenly choked with the mention of Lizzy's name.

"Is she all right?" Jane asked looking worried.

"She'll be fine," said Jackie, and then proceeded to pound Tina on the back.

Everyone looked at them in concern until Tina finally swallowed. "If I didn't die of suffocation right now, I'll die of internal bleeding from your smacking." Tina said shooting a glare at Jackie.

"Hey, I saved your life," protested Jackie. She looked innocently back at the girls, "Sorry about that. You were saying?"

Bewildered, Lizzy couldn't recall what she had been saying. For the first time, her wit had been stumped by the ridiculous performance of the two girls. She proposed to the rest of the girls in the group for them to make their introductions too. Tina and Jackie, for the first time since the floor meeting began, actually stood quietly and listened diligently to each member of the group as they went around introducing themselves.

Jane and Lizzy were sisters from BC. Jane was Lizzy's older sister and belonged to the School of Nursing. Lizzy was a Chemistry major on the Chancellor's scholarship and so had her own single bedroom. Jane, however, was sharing a room with another girl called Caroline Bingley who, as Jane quietly explained, was currently complaining to the Residence Council, demanding to be put in a coed residence. Jane added that she took a year off to work in a nursery so she could come to school the same year as Lizzy.

Elinor and Marianne were originally from Alberta and were sisters too. Elinor was in her second year in the Concurrent Education program majoring in English, while Marianne was in her first year as a Music student. They lived in an economy double down the hall. When the question of what instrument Marianne played was asked, she proudly declared that she is able to play most instruments but specialized in piano and voice. The group broke out into the ooh's and aah's that were expected by Marianne, who smiled not too smugly in return.

Emma was from Toronto and was a first year Life Sciences student who was aspiring to be a doctor. When asked when it was she decided to pursue a career in medicine, she answered that she had wanted to be a doctor ever since she was in high school. Many noticed after Emma finished her introduction that she was clever and knew it too!

Harriet, who was called upon by Emma as her roommate to introduce herself, was from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She was dropped off yesterday by her father who left to go on a fishing trip in the Maritimes today. She was a Life Science student too, but unlike Emma, had no idea what she was going to do with her degree after she graduated. She struck everyone as being a simple and unpretending girl, who would readily allow her strong-willed roommate to take control of her life and tell her what to think and how to act. Harriet was glad when Anne called for everyone's attention for she always found introductions to be difficult things.

"The house meeting is going to happen in about fifteen minutes and we are all expected to sing the Oil Thigh," announced Anne. "It is utterly impossible to find a Queen's student that can't sing the Oil Thigh, so we'll working very hard to make sure that everyone learns it by the end of the day."

Ann pulled out a scroll from one of the shopping bags she had carried in, and unrolling it taped it to the wall. The lyrics of the Oil Thigh had been neatly hand printed by Anne the night before. "Now, I'm not much of a singer and neither is Anne. Trust me we listened to each other last night and neither of us can carry a tune very well. So we brought a CD of the school choir singing it. Feel free to sing along." She inserted the CD into her ghetto blaster and with a flourish said, "Ladies, we present to you the Oil Thigh."

At the touch of a button by Ann, the well-trained prerecorded voices of the Queen's choir accompanied by the vibrant Queen's band broke out into the song that has been one of the longest standing traditions at Queen's. The tune was derived from "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". The full title of the song written by Alfred Lavell in 1898 was called "Queen's College Colours". However, through the years, students have dotingly called it by the first verse which was written in Gaelic, "Oil Thigh Na Banrign" or more often by its further shorten title, "Oil Thigh".

The time for the house meeting was drawing closer and for the last time before they proceeded downstairs, Anne asked the girls to sing it again. The once shy group of girls had now fully settled into their role as loyal Queen's students and without hesitation belted out the Oil Thigh.

(chorus)Oil thigh na banrign,
Na banrign, grubra
Oil thigh na banrign,
Na banrign, grubra
Oil thigh na banrign,
Na banrign, grubra
Cha Gheil! Cha Gheil! Cha Gheil!

Queen's college colours we are wearing once again,
Soiled as they are by the battle and the rain.
Yet another victory to wash away the stain,
So Gaels go in and win!
SING!

Repeat chorus.

(chant)WHAT'S THE SPORT OF KINGS?
QUEEN'S! QUEEN'S! QUEEN'S!
OIL THIGH NA BANRIGN
CHA GHEIL! CHA GHEIL! CHA GHEIL!
OIL THIGH NA BANRIGN
CHA GHEIL! CHA GHEIL! CHA GHEIL!
YAAAAAY! QUEEN'S!

With a resounding "Hurrah!" The girls trouped down the stairs to sit in yet another meeting in this long day of meetings.

Later on in the afternoon, the freshmen of the oncoming year were hustled into the hockey arena that had been hastily transformed into an inauguration hall earlier in the afternoon. They had been assembled to make the solemn vows that would formally integrate them as a part of Queen's for life. Not many listened while the principal was speaking. Some were trying to fight off the feeling of faintness from the heat in the overcrowded arena, while the attention of others were drifting back to the home they had left behind in order to be crammed in like sardines in a badly ventilated building. But when the time came for them to say 'I do', they all agreed in unison without really knowing what it was they had agreed to do. Actually, they really didn't care at that point. It was getting late and most had not had much to eat since the breakfast that seemed to have happened ages ago. However, as luck would have it, when the welcoming ceremony was over and they were finally allowed to leave and return to their residence buildings, it began to rain in earnest outside. To further their streak of bad luck, the line-ups at the dining hall extended outside into the rain. Being soaked to the skin, cold, and miserable were the only things many of the freshmen would remember about their first meal at Queen's -- if they remember it at all. Even fewer would remember what was served: turkey, ham, or lasagna. It wouldn't matter because everything would taste the same before long.

There were some evening events planned for those who had enough energy to go. But many vouched for a quieter night to get better acquainted with their new surroundings. A few girls, who were braver than most, ventured into the showers to wash off their exhaustion before relating to their journals the events of the day in its entirety. And so, with this simple ritual, the lights went out in McNeill 4. The girls finally laid down their weary heads on their respective pillows and promptly fell asleep.

Oil Thigh Na Banrign - Chapter 2 (I)

"Hey Anne!" called someone from the back of the group. "Can we find someplace to take a break. It's getting kind of hot."

"Let's duck inside MacCorry and cool off then," suggested Anne to her group.

They had been touring the campus all morning and the effects of the first night spent in strange accommodations, the race for the 'good' stall in the bathroom that morning, along with the mercurial disposition of Kingston weather were beginning to take their toll on the girls' tolerance. Anne's suggestion was unanimously agreed upon, much to the relief of everyone in the group. After a few minutes of loitering in the back foyer of MacCorry to recuperate from the heat, the tour continued.

"This is MacKintosh-Corry Hall more commonly know as MacCorry," said Anne as she slowly led the group down the main hallway. "This building houses most of the social sciences such as sociology, economics, political studies, and geography. Some of the department offices in the School of Business are also located here along with the office of Arts and Science and the Dean of Arts and Science."

"Hey, look! A good cafeteria!" pointed out Harriet.

"Sorry, but that cafeteria is not included in your meal plan," corrected Anne. "But cafeteria food isn't that bad, is it? I've..." her voice trailed off as her eyes became fixed on a person walking towards them. He had a backpack slung hastily over one shoulder and was carrying a box full of folders. Anne's steps slowed as he came closer.

"Is something the matter, Anne?" asked Jane, studying Anne's paled face.

Anne did not answer. Her steps slowed until they finally halted when the person came close enough for inspection.

By this time, the mounting curiosity of the group peaked and they all stared openly at the tall stranger that had suddenly muted their leader. They noticed that he looked too old to be an undergraduate student, yet too young to be a professor. He too had been looking at Anne with the same intensity she had given in studying him. The dark eyes that he had fixed on Anne expressed mixed feelings of joy and anger that confused the group. His brisk gait also slowed when he spotted Anne. It did not take a rocket scientist for the group to see that Anne and this enigmatic stranger had a sort of history.

Anne moved as if the greet the person, but he quickly looked away and hasten his steps to quit them from his sight.

There was a chorus of "Ooooo"s from the group when they felt he was out of earshot.

"That was intense!" exclaimed Lizzy.

"Yeah, what was that? Or more appropriately, who was that?" asked Marianne, whose imagination had already concocted a caricature of the history behind this thrilling encounter.

Anne, however, didn't seem to want to talk about it. She lightly dismissed the person as someone she knew from home in Nova Scotia, but he didn't seem to have recognized her. There were some uncomfortable shuffles behind her as the girls sighed and narrowed their eyes in disbelief.

"I bet it's..." began Tina.

"Shh!" prevented Jackie, clapping her hand over Tina's mouth. "You don't know enough to speculate, so shut up." Tina nodded in compliance and Jackie released her cover.

"So, Tina. You know who this person is?" pried Emma.

Tina looked like a deer caught in the headlights, "Um, no. I just thought that it might be someone she knew from home."

Emma sighed exasperated, "Yes, but Anne told us that. You said you knew who he was."

"No, I said 'I bet it's' and then Jackie cut me off. I never..."

"Girls! Girls! Enough!" cut in Anne. "This tour is almost over so let's just go home and get some rest before Frosh Week tomorrow, okay?"

There were some grumbles between Tina and Emma. The former narrowed her eyes and mumbled something that contained a word which sounded strangely like 'Knightley' to Emma, but Emma dismissed it as her mind hallucinating from homesickness and called it a truce. After all, it was not a good thing to start off the second day of living away from home by picking a fight with your floormates.

They had gotten to the front door of MacCorry when a glass display board caught Emma's attention. "Geography DSC" read Emma aloud to the group. "What does DSC mean?"

"Department Student Council," answered Anne. "Every class in this department has a few representatives that are selected to be in this council. They pass on news such as departmental smokers, and wine and cheeses with profs."

"Hey, look. Pictures!" pointed out Harriet, who had taken to sticking very close with Emma. "Graduate students. They don't look very old, do they?"

Emma's blue eyes scanned through the pictures. Her interest in them attracted the attentions of other girls in the group. Before long, everyone had crowded around the Geography DSC board like people possessed. Their attention had been seized by one face in the second row of pictures.

"Oh my gosh... It's that guy..." whispered Emma, not knowing why she felt it was appropriate to whisper. With glee, she spotted the nametag beneath the snapshot and read the name triumphantly, "Frederick Wentworth."

Tina and Jackie looked at each other with eyes full of expectation. "He has arrived." The girls looked at them with furrowed brows. Those two were starting to puzzle them exceedingly.

"So that's his name," said Marianne pensively. She now had names to ground the fantasy she had been creating about her don and the person they had just passed.

Emma sidled over to stand beside a bewildered Anne. "Frederick Wentworth? What is the history behind you and Frederick? Passing friends don't react like that to the sight of each other, you know."

Anne felt her reticence begin to collapse. She shook her head and looked down, "Please don't ask anymore. I've told you all I want to tell you about him. He's just a friend who doesn't seem to recognize me now. It happens."

This reply immediately subdued the intrusive queries of the girls and they returned to McNeill with penitent expressions on their faces, each hurrying back to their rooms to dissect every look between Frederick and Anne during that fateful encounter.

Sighing, Anne sat down in front of a mirror on her desk and looked at her reflection. "Could it possible he didn't recognize me?" she thought. "Perhaps it is better this way. Let him forget who I am. I would rather this than have him hold a grudge against me."

She stood up and paced her room. It was bigger than the regular dormitory rooms on the floor because of her position as a don. She had a small couch and a coffee table in one corner of the room for heart-to-heart discussions with those who came to seek her advice. However, Anne felt that presently, it is she who is in need of a heart-to-heart talk.

Curling up on her couch with a raggedy teddy, she looked at a picture of her mother and ached for her presence. "If mom was still around, I would have given her a call and asked her what I am to do now." Anne said to herself. "But then of course, if mom was around back then, she would have supported me and stopped dad and Elizabeth from writing that letter." Tears began to well up in her soft brown eyes, "Oh, I wish I could go back in time and fix everything."

Five year ago at Camp Wilderness in Nova Scotia

Exhausted, Anne sat down at a table with her tray for her first quiet meal in a week. It had been her turn for cafeteria duty; the job camp counselors loathed as much as pulling teeth. Luckily for her, there had only been one food fight threat and three trippings this week. Being naturally soft spoken, it would have been a disaster if there had been a food fight. Her quiet voice would have been ineffective on the noise of sixty children screaming in an echoing cafeteria.

"Hullo, Anne," greeted the amiable voice of a lanky person sitting down beside her. It was Frederick Wentworth, whom the children had dubbed Captain Frederick Wentworth due to his position as the counselor in charge of the sailing and canoeing.

"Oh, hi, Frederick. You scared me."

"Sorry, that was not my intention. You look tired." Frederick commented looking over Anne's pale complexion.

Anne blushed at his attention, "No, I'm fine. Just a bit tired from this week. Kitchen duty you know. Hey, aren't you supposed to be on bathroom duty?"

Frederick grinned, "Yup. But some of the kiddies have gone out with Benwick, Harville, and Harville's sister Phoebe to see the stars, and the rest have gone off with the other counselors to catch frogs and fireflies. It's the first clear night we've had in a long time. And you know James Benwick, our stargazer. They'll be reciting poetry tomorrow morning and commenting on how bright the Pleiades are tomorrow night."

Anne couldn't help but to laugh at the odd picture Frederick had painted. He always had a way of making her laugh. "You look like you need a snack, but I'm afraid cook has closed the cafeteria for the night. Care to have something from my tray?"

Frederick shook his head, "That spaghetti and meatballs doesn't look very appetizing and the rolls look rather green, no offense to cook of course. Come on, I'll whip up something more appetizing in the kitchen."

Anne knew the kitchen was locked, but knowing Frederick, and she knew him well, he would have a way of getting in.

They went out into the warm summer night with the cool breeze from lake whistling through the grass and grazing between their bare legs. There was one window in particular that Frederick was looking for.

"Cook always keeps the window and doors to the kitchen locked," explained Frederick as he peered in every window. "But he never remembers to lock the window to the loading bay. I don't think he really knows that there is a lock to that window. Aha! I found it!" He heaved at the window and it opened without resistance.

"It looks like you've done this quite a few times." Anne said coyly, "That window is very well oiled."

Frederick ran his hands through his dark short cropped hair and looked rather sheepish, "Well, uh... You see, Benwick, Harville and I are 'growing boys' and we need the extra food."

"Growing boys?"

"Okay, fine. We're guys and we eat a lot. Come on! I can cook up quite an omelet." He offered his hand to Anne to hoist her through the window.

With a shake of her head, Anne allowed herself to be raised to the window and climbed into the loading bay. Within a few moments, Frederick dropped down beside her.

"Won't cook notice the missing food?" she asked rather anxiously. It was not in her nature to be sneaking around at night searching for food.

Frederick groped around in the dark feeling for the light switch. When he found it, he switched it on and answered, "We've never had problems before. I think either cook doesn't notice, or he doesn't care. What's one less green pepper, tomato, some cheese and a few eggs? He's always complaining how the kids are wasting food, while we are here to actually eat it instead of throwing it."

"Okay, what can I do to help?" was Anne's consent.

Fifteen minutes later, the two sat on the polished counter in the darkened kitchen contentedly feasting on Frederick's gourmet omelet and listening to the crickets chirruping outside.

"I can't believe how fast the summer is just whizzing by." Anne observed.

Frederick agreed, "School will be starting soon. But I'm looking forward to it, though."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot to ask you how your first year at Dalhousie was."

"It was uneventful. Had to take a whole bunch of classes I didn't want to take. But this year I'll have more options to take my subject of concentration."

"Have you decided on your major then?"

"I'm thinking about geography or geology, or maybe biology. I want to do something with the water. I've always liked it." He stopped to steal a look at Anne who was watching the fireflies dancing outside. A stronger breeze came in through the open window and a stray hair escaped from Anne's dark auburn ponytail that seemed to glisten by the moonlight. She tucked the loose strands behind her ear with one graceful movement. At this simple gesture, Frederick's heart did a weird turn that made him catch his breath. Fearing that she might notice his bewitchment, he asked, "What about you? You're going into grade twelve next year, aren't you? Where are you planning on going for university?"

Anne turned from the window. Gathering up her courage, she gave Frederick a significant look and replied, "I'm thinking of going to Dalhousie too."

Frederick started, but when he saw Anne turn away and blush at his reaction, he quickly said, "Well, it would be nice if you came to Dal. I would like to have you there. Maybe you could visit this year? When you're in Halifax."

"I live in Halifax."

"Oh, r-right." Frederick stammered. "I-I just thought that you could visit me. Th-that is if you want to. But if-if you're going to be busy, I totally understand. Grade twelve is a busy year. I..."

Anne smiled. "He's rather cute when he's flustered." She mused to herself.

"Why are you smiling and looking at me like that?"

"I was just thinking about you and... No, I mean, that is..." she was silenced by the kiss Frederick had been yearning to bestow on her ever since the first day of camp.

They parted and looked away in embarrassment.

"Sorry about that." Frederick said with his eyes on the floor.

Anne too, shared Frederick's fascination with the floor. "That's okay. It was... nice."

Frederick beamed, he timidly turned his eyes to look at Anne, and saw that she was doing the same too. They both laughed with amusement at their foolishness, and relief at their mutual affections. They would have drawn together again if it weren't for the chortles from the children returning from the night trips.

"Give me your plate. I'll wash the dishes since you cooked dinner" offered Anne. "You supposed to be on bathroom duty right now too. You don't want to get busted."

Frederick grinned trying to hide his vexation at the ill-timing of the children's return. "Thanks. Be careful walking back to the cabins." With that, he made his exit out the window leaving Anne with a smile as bright as the stars that had occupied the children during this magical evening.

After this meeting with Frederick, camp became even more of a joy for Anne. The children never seemed as incorrigible as they were before. Their yelling didn't seem quite as loud, and she was finding their off key voices more enduring with every campfire sing-along. Thus, the rest of the summer passed blissfully away. When the children had left, the time came for the counselors to bid their good-byes and exchange addresses with faithful promises to write.

Anne was the first to leave. Her father had sent their chauffeur to pick Anne up. Everyone came around to say one last goodbye to her bearing with them hugs and kisses. There was one person she held onto longer than the rest, and that was Frederick. His address had long been safely tucked away to prevent it from getting lost. She promised to write him as soon as she got home.

Frederick nodded in return and pressed another piece of paper into her hand. "I'll miss you, Anne. Please come visit this year."

"I'll try," whispered Anne, tears trickling down her rosy cheeks. She felt Frederick's sailing worn hands cup her face, and his rough thumbs brushing away her tears. "Goodbye, Frederick."

Frederick glanced over at the old chauffeur to make sure he wasn't looking and kissed Anne softly. "Goodbye, my dearest Anne."

With heavy heart, Anne clambered into the car, clutching tightly to Frederick's note. As the car sped away Anne opened her palm to see what Frederick had given her. It was a paper boat with Captain Frederick Wentworth printed on the side. She carefully opened the boat and in it was a note Frederick had written in his broad hand.

Dear Anne,

I'm sitting on my bunk right now writing to you in the last night at camp. But think of me as sitting out on the dock waiting for my ride. I will not be thinking of the ride though. I will be wishing for summer to start all over again. I will be wishing for you to be sitting here right now, watching the sparkling lake with me. I will be wishing that I had made my feelings known to you sooner. Maybe I should take the advice of our stargazer Benwick and wish on some stars tonight for you to come back. But just as long as you are in my life, I will be happy. I have never met a person that has complemented me so well. Please write me as soon as you can. I will be thinking of you every moment until I get your letter and then I will think of you some more as I write back, and will continue to think of you after my letter is sent waiting for your reply.

Take Care,
Captain Frederick Wentworth

Anne sighed at his heart felt note. She could picture him clearly, sitting on the dock, his summer tanned legs dangling in the water, and thinking about her just like she was yearning for him. He had made this summer the best summer she had ever since her mother passed away. Like Frederick, she longed to start the summer again, but the car's lurching, jolted her back to the reality that she was being whisked to her father's imposing presence in Halifax.

Oil Thigh Na Banrign - Chapter 2 (I, 2nd part)

Mr. Walter Elliot, of Halifax, in Nova Scotia, was a man who, for his own information, never took up any newspaper but the Bluenose Chronicles; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed on; there his faculties were roused into arrogance and contempt as he turned over the pages detailing the gossip of his fellow Bluenoses. Today, he was occupied with one column - this was the paragraph at which he was busily studying:

"ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH-ESTATE
Mr. Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1943, is one of the oldest Bluenoses of the country. His heritage extends back to the first Elliot's arrival with Hon. Edward Cornwallis in 1749 at the Chebucto peninsula. The Elliot family have shown great valour in several wars starting from the siege of Louisbourg in 1759 to participation in WWI when Halifax was the centre of naval operations in Canada. Today, the Elliots preside in Kellynch estate. Mr. Elliot is currently a widower caring for his two daughters: Elizabeth, 22, who recently graduated from Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, and Anne, 17, a studious high school senior."

Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood in newsprint; but Mr. Elliot after several readings throughout the day, had improved it by inserting most accurately the precise date he had lost his wife. He was going to further elaborate on the social pretentiousness of his eldest daughter when he heard the arrival of his second daughter.

"Ah, Anne," greeted Mr. Elliot standing up to receive his daughter's entrance. He was stringent on the adherence to traditional social decorum. A gentleman should always act as such, he often asserted. "How has this camp been? I'm sure they were extremely honoured by your presence."

"Hello, father," answered Anne with composure. "Camp Wilderness was really great. I enjoyed myself working with the children and everybody appreciated everybody's help."

Mr. Elliot frowned. "I wish you hadn't gone. It isn't the Elliot way to go tramping around in the middle of nowhere with a gaggle of children. We are honoured Bluenoses. Look here, you were mentioned in the Bluenose Chronicles." He shook the newspaper at her.

Anne obliged her father and took up the newspaper glancing briefly over the article. "Oh, dad, it's not like there is anything wrong with working...."

"And how many times do I have to tell you to call me 'father'. Don't you think it sounds better?" Anne nodded in compliance and Mr. Elliot continued, "Elliots don't work! We are as old as the city. There isn't a building in Halifax that an Elliot has not had some involvement in. Why, just this summer I was there for the inaugural opening of Ms. Russell's new hotel."

Anne did not see how her father's idle popularity could save the rapid decrease of the Elliot fortune. She knew her father was aware of their imminent financial hardship, but he was convinced that if he went out into society more often he would be able to find better stocks to invest in. Mr. Elliot believed that working was not a respectable occupation and found that playing the stock market was the only way to make money without actually working. However, his vanity and ignorance often resulted in the squander of large amounts of the family fortune in useless investments.

"Why are you so quiet now?" asked Mr. Elliot rather crossly.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just wondering where Elizabeth is."

Mr. Elliot smiled at the mention of Elizabeth, "She's out with Ms. Russell picking out new drapes for house. These have been here for far too long."

"But what is wrong with these? We've only used them for a year."

"I never said there was anything wrong with them!" Mr. Elliot snapped. "I just got tired of looking at them. We need new drapes and I'm the head of the household, so don't question everything I do!" He would have continued berating Anne if it wasn't for the noisy entry of Elizabeth.

"Dad! You would not believe what happened!" panted Elizabeth. She did not even acknowledge Anne's presence. Without waiting for her father to answer, she continued, "They cut my credit card!" she screeched and stamped the floor like a spoiled child, "Don't they know who I am? What right did they have to cut my credit card? It was so humiliating! Apparently, I haven't been paying my bills. Well... excuse me! I have better things to worry about. So what if I missed a few payments? It's not like I'm never going to pay them back. Sheesh."

Mr. Elliot pulled Elizabeth down to sit by him and patted her comfortingly, "There, there, my dear. I'm sure it was the credit company's fault. I'll get Mr. Shepherd to call them tomorrow morning and everything will be as right as rain before long."

"Call them tonight!" Elizabeth pouted, "I'm crippled without my credit card."

Mr. Elliot consented, "Yes, yes, I'll call him tonight if you want me to. Now, go on and wash up. You don't want to wrinkle your face prematurely by being angry all the time."

Elizabeth got up in a huff and still ignoring Anne's presence stomped out of the room.

With Elizabeth gone, Ms. Russell, who had been standing quietly in a corner watching Elizabeth whine, approached Mr. Elliot, "Walter, you must understand now that things aren't going well. You must sell your estate and pay off your debtors."

"What? Sell my estate?" scoffed Mr. Elliot, "That would not be the Elliot way. No, we'll cut back on other things."

Ms. Russell looked at Anne. Before Anne had left for camp, they had drawn up some plans that would save Mr. Elliot face and money. She handed the sheet over to Mr. Elliot, "Anne and I have been discussing some ways that will help you save what you have now so you will be able to pay off your debt by next year."

Mr. Elliot looked at Anne as if she was five and had broken a vase. Snatching the paper from Ms. Russell he said with disdain, "Anne, eh? Well let me see - WHAT? Vacations canceled? No more eating out? Dismiss some servants? Sell my stocks? I don't think you thought this over very well. People will talk if we don't make our annual trip to Barbados, and Elizabeth is really looking forward to it this year. The rest are just unreasonable. No, I will think of better ways. In the mean time, I'll just call up Mr. Shepherd and tell him to get me another loan to pay off these bills." He sighed and dejectedly left the sitting room to take comfort in his paper elsewhere.

Disappointed, Ms. Russell turned to Anne and welcomed her home. She made the usual inquiries after the camp and the children, and then hurried away, leaving Anne alone in the sitting room.

Shrugging off the disastrous events following her return, Anne went up to her room to take solace in her memories of camp and write Frederick her promised letter.

August 30, 1995

Dear Frederick,

Like I promised, I wrote to you right after I got home. It is not because I have nothing better to do, but because I miss you so much. If home wasn't such a troubling place, perhaps I might not miss you as much, but what is said is said, and what has happened has happened so I supposed I should just grin and bear it.

You weren't the only person wishing for the summer to start all over again. Ever since old George drove me away, I've been longing to be back. Maybe you should major in physics instead and figure out a way to make a time machine so we can go back in time. This time machine will be of more significance to me than you, because my joys all seem to lie in the past, or maybe not. If you are in my future, I will look forward to it. I'm sure you are thinking right now that you are in my present too, but I'm sorry to say that if you were, I would be feeling your arms around me right now, listening to your comforting words. Oh, these melancholy thoughts! I really shouldn't be plaguing you with them.

How is Cape Breton right now? Are the waves as wild as ever? When are you coming to Halifax? Please write me before you leave and give me your school address.

My thoughts are with you,
Anne Elliot

Frederick wrote a reply to Anne's letter as soon as he got it. He felt her pain through her sad words and he wished that he could be there to comfort her. Anne had told him of her family situation one night after the children had gone to bed. They had been sitting out on the dock, where for the first time since her mother's death, Anne's tears and bottled up grievances had found an empathizer. He understood her frustration and adored her even more because of her trust in him for disclosing such precious feelings. He wrote back words of comfort and encouragement to her. He wrote of his hopes that soon her father would be able to understand and that her sister would be persuadable to reason. The situation at home for Anne did not improve during the lapse in days between her letter and Frederick's reply. Her father and her sister left on their annual trip to Barbados leaving her behind.

"To save money." Mr. Elliot had reasoned with Ms. Russell when he thought Anne was in her room. "She can't go because school will be starting while we are still away. Besides, she never seems to like going anyway." Those were her father's exact words. She felt the urge to cry when she first overheard them, but after years of similar treatment from her father, she was becoming desensitized to them. However insensitive her father's decision was, she felt that it would be for the best. Although, she would have been the most cost efficient person on the trip, they were still saving through her ticket, hotel and food costs. Yet, no matter how Anne explained the benefits of this situation to herself, it still troubled her greatly to know that her father held her opinions and feelings in very low esteem.

Frederick's letter arrived the day her father and Elizabeth left for Barbados. Even before she read the letter, the touch and sight of it soothed her troubles. When she read it, the words were like a balm on a burn, lifting away the sting of the previous days and cooling the anger that had been simmering in the back of her mind. She perused of the contents in the letter several times before she felt cheerful enough to write Frederick the answer he deserved. He had written that he was going to be arriving in Halifax within the next two to three days. Anne began to feel that maybe it was better she did not go on the trip after all. Gleefully, she penned him a quick reply with her phone number, and sent it off to his school address.

Within a few days, much to Anne's delight, he called and they chatted for hours, Before they hung up, they decided to meet the next day for lunch.

Frederick had a car and was prompt in picking Anne up the next morning. He took her to the school and showed her the buildings where he took his classes. He told her all about his experience at university and at her request took her to eat the school's cafeteria food. It was Saturday, which meant only brunch was being served; they didn't care what they ate as long as it was together. They then drove into town and walked along until they decided to catch a movie. At the end of the day, Frederick drove her home in time for her dinner date with Ms. Russell. Anne then invited him in to meet her. He agreed.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms. Russell." Anne said as she bounded breathlessly into the sitting room.

Ms. Russell looked shocked, for this was the first time she had seen Anne in high spirits ever since her mother's death two years ago. "That's quite all right Anne. Where were you this afternoon?"

"Oh, out with a friend," she answered backing towards the door, "I've brought him home to meet you."

"Him?"

Frederick entered the room looking rather self-conscious. He was unaccustomed to being in such a big house. His family, although they were not poor, were not too affluent. His sister, brother and himself were expected to make their way in life with some help from their parents. Nothing like the stability that Anne took for granted. He took his hands out of his pockets and forced a smile at the severe demeanor of Ms. Russell.

"Ms. Russell, this is my friend, Frederick Wentworth. We met at camp and exchanged addresses at the end of the year to keep in touch. He's in Halifax at Dalhousie University right now doing his undergraduate degree." Anne said, hoping for Ms. Russell's approval.

"Undergraduate degree? In what, son?"

"I don't know yet" answered Frederick, "But I'm sure by the end of this year, I would have figured it."

Ms. Russell gave him a disapproving look, "Where are you from originally?"

"Cape Breton."

"And what were you doing at the camp?"

"I was the marine activities counselor; I take the children sailing and canoeing."

"Yes, but why were you working at the camp?" Ms. Russell asked narrowing her eyes.

By this time, Frederick understood the intention of Ms. Russell's questions perfectly. He boldly answered, "Because I needed the money for school this year. My parents don't have the money to pay for me and my brother and sister's tuition."

Ms. Russell nodded, satisfied at his response. She looked over at Anne who was horrified at what Ms. Russell had just done. Frederick's answer to Ms. Russell's last question had just proved to Anne that he was a hard working person and nothing more. Ms. Russell was inclined to believe that he was unsuitable for Anne due to his inferior birth and the potential mercenary means of his affections.

Frederick understood all that had transpired through the brief look between Ms. Russell and Anne. He put his hands back in his pockets and with a grim look at Anne said, "I had better get going now. You ladies have a dinner to get to. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Russell. Have a nice evening." Anne moved to walk him out, but Ms. Russell called out to Anne to come and chat with her about something, forcing Frederick to see himself out.

Dinner was a rather stilted for Anne, who fought her disappointment through every course. It made her angry to see Ms. Russell calmly tucking away her filet mignon and chatting to Anne about trivial topics, acting like the whole meeting had never taken place. Finally, after dessert, Ms. Russell broached on the topic that Anne had been dying to discuss ever since the topic was rudely dismissed from the house.

"So, this... Fred something or other..."

"Frederick Wentworth," prompted Anne.

"This Frederick Wentworth that you met at camp. Does you father know about him?"

Anne looked down at her napkin and quietly said, "No, I didn't tell him."

"And why didn't you tell him?"

"I didn't know if he would approve."

Ms. Russell reached across the table and lifted up Anne's chin, "Oh, Anne, if you feel that your father might disapprove of him, then maybe it would be better if you stopped all of this nonsense at once."

"It isn't nonsense!" defended Anne. She lowered her voice. "It isn't nonsense. I really like him, and I don't think it would matter if father didn't approve. He doesn't seem to care much about me anyway."

"Now, that is not true," reprimanded Ms. Russell with a stern look. "You aren't old enough to know your feelings really well. You should wait a little longer before you seriously commit to this relationship. It is far too early for you to be involved with a college boy like Frederick."

"What about Elizabeth? She's had a long line of boyfriends ever since she turned twelve."

"Elizabeth is different. She chooses boys from the same class who have much to offer her. What does Frederick have to offer you? He has no future stability. He doesn't even know what he's going to do with his life. If you get too deep into this relationship, you might end up suffering the consequences of it for the rest of you life." Anne sighed and Ms. Russell knew that her battle was half won. "Come now, Anne, did you think of these things when you first agreed to this relationship?" Anne shook her head. "There. Do you see what I mean? You are far too young for him. Stop this thing before it goes too far. You've been writing letters to him right? Write him one telling him that you don't want his attentions anymore and that'll be that."

Anne gasped with shock, "No! I could never do that to him! I just can't." She sobbed into her napkin, "Please don't make me do this! You don't understand what he means to me. Please!"

Ms. Russell clicked her tongue disapprovingly, "Anne, don't cry in a public place. Compose yourself." She waited until Anne's sobs abated and continued, "You must see my point in telling you all this. You know very well how your father feels about associating with people who are not Bluenoses. You would disappoint everyone if you continue to see Frederick." She stopped and considered, "If you feel that you really can't write to him, then just let me write it and be done with it. Will that be better for you?"

What choice did Anne have but to nod in agreement? It would not have done much good to her if she continued to argue with Ms. Russell. Further defense of Frederick's character would have resulted in angry words from Ms. Russell; eventually, Anne would have to submit to her demands.

Frederick didn't call that night, and the next morning, Ms. Russell took her out to the harbour for walk to give her a copy of the letter. Anne read the letter when she got home and wept for the rest of the afternoon. Ms. Russell had written such cruel words that Anne just had to weep for the sake of Frederick and herself. She immediately burned the letter in hopes of destroying her sorrow with it. The thought that Frederick might understand crossed her mind, but she knew that would be asking too much - even for a saint. She waited for a week to hear his reply, but as expected none came. She applied to Dalhousie and Queen's University that year and was accepted to both schools. She accepted Queen's offer at her father's insistence. When she signed her name on the acceptance slip, Frederick once again crossed her mind; she wondered if he would be watching for her next year, and would he be angry if he realized that she wasn't there. But it was her faltering optimism speaking for her again. She knew that he would either have forgotten her by now, or be too angry at her to care where she went.

Present Day

"Anne!" someone was knocking at her door.

Anne woke up. She had fallen asleep on the couch. Wiping away some tears that had appeared while she dreamt, she opened the door. It was Ann Taylor. "Hi, Anne. Sorry about the wait, I fell asleep."

"The heat does that to me too. It's twelve-thirty. I think it's time we take our floor down to eat lunch."

Anne paused, debating whether or not she should go. She opened her mouth to say her refusal, but only words of agreement came out, "Just give me five minutes to wash up. I guess we should gather the group in the common room again."

Ann nodded, "Sure. We'll give you more than five minutes."

"Thanks," said Anne and she closed the door.

Oil Thigh Na Banrign - Chapter 2 (ii)

The next few days before classes passed peacefully away. The freshmen were properly "oriented" by the upper year students who showed them the right bars, clubs, and restaurants in Kingston. Frosh Olympics were held on the very last day of Frosh Week, signaling the end of the fun and games and the beginning of the actual academic school year. Needless to say, the freshmen were all nervous about the upcoming classes, but still launched their hearts and souls into the games on that final day of bliss. Before they knew it, the first day of school arrived, sunny and hot, the perfect morning to start off the school year.

Lizzy stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, attempting to tame a stray curl of her chocolate brown hair. She could hear Jane inside the shower room in one of the stalls, humming softly as she showered.

Suddenly, Caroline burst into the bathroom dressed in her pink satin robe, her matching slippers flapping against her feet, disturbing the peace in the bathroom.

"Good morning, Caroline!" greeted Lizzy cheerfully, knowing very well that Caroline did not like her and even less so when she was cheery.

Caroling groaned, "Morning."

"What class do you have this morning?"

Caroline frowned, "Psyc" she then proceeded to attack her permed mousy hair with a brush.

Lizzy winced and thought, "Dang! Jane and I are in the same class as her!" but then she forced a phony smile on her face and said, "What a coincidence! Jane and I have psyc this morning too. You should come and sit with us!" Please say no, please say no, she silently prayed.

Caroline stopped abruptly in her brushing and a scowl began to appear on her face, "Oh, really?" The scowl faded as she forced a tight smile onto her lips. "Actually, I'm already sitting with some other friends for Psyc."

"Oh well, that's too bad Caroline. I guess I'll just see you around." Lizzy then walked lightly out of the bathroom, muttering under her breath as she brushed by Caroline, "Have fun with your imaginary friends."

"I heard that!"

Lizzy smirked to herself as she feigned deafness and went back into her room to pack her school bags for the day.

Emma stirred her cereal listlessly in nervous anticipation of her first class. For the first time in her life, she felt unsure and scared. Being the only child of her overindulgent father, Emma's life was never lacking in praise and confidence. Now that she found herself alone without her father to shower her with his adulation, and Knightley to encourage her, she felt truly lost of the first time. A lump in her throat swelled up and tears began to sting in her eyes as she thought of home. Emma blinked furiously, adamant in not crying on her first day of school. For goodness sake, she was going into her first year of university, not kindergarten, she reprimanded herself. How Knightley would laugh if he saw her now. She looked up to dry her tears and she saw Harriet standing at the door of the cafeteria looking around for someone to sit with. Emma waved her hand at Harriet and watched as she hurried over with her tray.

"Hi, Emma! I didn't hear you leave this morning." Harriet said setting down her tray. Emma looked down at the tray and found that Harriet had only taken a banana.

"Harriet, what are you doing? Is this all your going to eat this morning?" Emma demanded with a severe look at her rosy roommate.

Harriet sat down and slowly peeled her banana. "I'm on a diet. I read Teen last week and it told me that my weight for someone my age is supposed to be 110 lbs. I'm over that by so much that I..."

"Oh hush! That is a whole bunch of... You need more food. At least go and get some cereal." Harriet hesitated and Emma stood up, "Fine, if you aren't going to get it, I will. What kind do you want?"

"Oh no, Emma. I'll get it." Harriet said quickly pushing back her chair. "Thank you for not thinking I'm fat."

"Harriet, you're not fat and you know it. Now, go and get something else to eat. Didn't you ever hear that breakfast is brain food?" Harriet knitted her brows in confusion. Emma rolled her eyes, "Oh, never mind, just go and get something more substantial for breakfast."

Harriet went away leaving Emma to her thoughts once again, but Emma was not solitary for long. Ann joined her soon after Harriet had gone away.

"Can I sit down?" asked Ann.

"Of course! You needn't ask! I welcome company anytime." Emma answered with her bright smile.

Ann slid into a seat across from Emma. "Why are you all alone this morning?" she asked. Although Ann had only known Emma for a week, she knew that Emma was not one to be left alone without friends for very long.

"Actually, I'm not alone. Harriet's just gone off to get a little more for breakfast. That girl is convinced she is fat and was only going to eat a banana for breakfast. I couldn't let her do that to herself so I told her to eat something else with her banana."

Ann smiled, "I see you've taken her under your wing. You two are getting along very well then?"

Emma nodded, "It seems like I've known her for quite a long time now. We tell each other everything. I'm so glad I got a good roommate."

A rustle disturbed Emma as she turned and saw a person dressed in a pair of black slacks with a loose hanging purple shirt that exposed his chest setting his tray down beside hers. His black hair was gelled and swept forward in an attempt to imitate George Clooney's hair style in ER. "Good morning, Emma!" he greeted enthusiastically, "Are you ready for psyc?"

Emma turned and in her usual amiable way replied, "Good morning, Phil. You look excited about starting our first class."

Phil folded up his buttered toast and crammed it in his mouth. Washing it down it his milk, he said, "The weather is really nice today. I was so scared that it was going to be really rainy like the last couple of days. I think the rain just ruined Frosh Olympics yesterday, don't you?"

Emma nodded, "Yeah, it was a bit dirty, but I really didn't mind it that much." She turned to Ann and said, "Ann, I would like you to meet Phil Elton. We met during Frosh Week in our Gael group. He's in Life Science too."

Ann extended her hand across the table, "Please to meet you, Phil."

Phil look at Ann's hand with uncertainty as if he didn't understand what he should do with such a gesture, but after a brief pause, he clasped Ann's hand and shook it vigorously. "Nice to meet you Ann. Are you going to psyc this morning too?"

"Oh no," Emma corrected, "Ann is my floor senior. She's in...Chemical Engineering right?"

Ann smiled and nodded, "Thanks for remembering."

"Emma has a great memory. Photographic, I should say," flattered Phil as he folded another piece of toast.

"Phil, you make me sound like such a freak." Emma said in a tone that clearly conveyed her pleasure at his flattery. But before Phil could protest and continue his attentions to Emma, Harriet returned with a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk. "You're back, Harriet, and just in time. Phil has joined us for breakfast."

Harriet gave Phil a shy wave and sat down, quietly slicing her bananas into her cereal. She remembered him from Frosh Week, but he monopolized his time so often with Emma that Harriet didn't have much of a memory of him. The only thing she could think of was that his hair reminded her of George Clooney.

Ann could see that Harriet was being left out due to Phil's excessive attentions to Emma and said, "So, what class do you have this morning Harriet?"

Harriet looked up surprised that Ann would speak to her. In her experience, people always abandoned her for someone or something more interesting than her. Timidly, she answered, "Psyc. I think several of us are in that class. I talked to Elinor yesterday and she told me that she and Marianne are going to be there along with Emma, Lizzy, Jane and Jane's roommate."

"Wow, it's going to be a McNeill 4 party in that auditorium today. And speaking of a McNeill 4 party, here comes Elinor and Marianne." Ann waved her hand to catch Elinor's attention, "Over here!"

Elinor grinned at seeing a familiar face and headed over to their table with Marianne following close behind. "Hi Ann! Hi Harriet! Hi Emma!" she stopped at Phil and set down her tray next to Ann, "I believe we haven't met. I'm Elinor, and this is my sister Marianne."

Phil nodded at them and turned back to his breakfast. There were now too many people to divert Emma's attention against him, so he directed his attentions at his breakfast instead.

"I'm so looking forward to my first day." Marianne began, "I wonder if the atmosphere is like what they write in books."

"It depends on what kind of books you read" piped in a voice from behind her. It was Lizzy with a smile playing on her lips as she looked at everyone with her usual humour, twinkling in her eyes. "Most of the books I've read tell me that it's like a war out there and the profs are the ones with the nuclear weapons while we fight try to fend them off with sponges. Tell me which books you've read, Marianne, that describe university as a good place and I'll read it. Who knows, it might improve my outlook on this bleak fight."

"Good morning, Lizzy" said Ann shaking her head and chuckling under her breath at Lizzy's silly musings. "Come and take a seat with us. I can't believe this many people actually showed up for breakfast."

Lizzy set down her tray across from Marianne and said, "I'll be willing to bet anyone here that by end of next week, only half of us will be showing up for breakfast if even that many!"

"Where's Jane and Caroline?"

"Jane is waiting for the juice machine to be refilled, and Caroline would rather sit on nails than sit and eat with us."

"Lizzy, that is unkind," Jane said sitting down beside her. "Good morning, everyone. How is everybody today?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes. She could never understand why Jane could be so angelic and defend a person who was so obviously a phony. "Sorry, Jane. I didn't mean to say that. I just meant that Caroline has another group to go to this morning."

"Isn't she the one who didn't want to stay in McNeill since the very first day and wanted to be transferred into a co-ed dorm?" asked Harriet.

"The very one," confirmed Lizzy, cutting into her waffle.

"Oh, I remember her now. I saw her outside during move-in day. I think she has a brother who comes here too. They came in this really nice Lexus. Who moves their kid into a dorm in a Lexus?" Marianne wondered.

Lizzy chuckled, "Moved into dorm in a Lexus. That explains a lot."

"It was a really nice car. And she had a whole bunch of luggage with her."

"Yeah, you should see Jane's room. Half of the room is as neat as a pin, and the other half is cluttered with Caroline's junk."

"Lizzy..."

Lizzy shrugged, "Sorry, Jane." She looked mischievously over at Marianne, "It's all your fault. You shouldn't have brought up the car. You know I can't pass up an opportunity like that."

Marianne understood Lizzy's joke and returned, "Yeah, well, you shouldn't be bad-mouthing her in the first place. I'll be sure not to get on your bad side or else you might talk about me behind my back!"

"Sorry, gal, you're already on my hit list..." Lizzy joked as she dodged Marianne's arm. "Oh, you should have been there when Caroline came into the bathroom this morning."

"Lizzy, stop," said Jane emerging from her boiled egg. "Caroline told me what you said to her this morning and it wasn't very nice. She doesn't understand why you don't like her."

"You should ask her the same question." Lizzy said coming down from her mirth. The table fell silent at Lizzy's sudden change. This was the first time they had seen Lizzy without a smile on her face. Setting down her fork, she elaborated. "Ever since the first day, she couldn't stand me. I come into you room for a visit and she acts like I'm a nuisance even before I open my mouth. She doesn't like the way I dress, the way I do my hair, the way I don't wear makeup when I go out, and she told me all this point blank. She just doesn't like me. I'm sorry, Jane, if I can't be like you and treat her like a friend when she treats me like the cork on the bottom of her designer sandals."

Jane looked down at her egg once more, tears beginning to brim in her pale blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Lizzy. I didn't know that you felt that way about Caroline. She doesn't treat me like that, or maybe I just don't notice it. I'll try not to be so hard on you next time."

Lizzy leaned over and gave Jane a hug. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I really shouldn't talk about people behind their back. I won't do it again." Lizzy's smile appeared once more, "At least, I won't do it with you around." She winked at Marianne who in turned tried to hide the giggle that was slowly bubbling out of her.

Emma checked her watch and started, "Oh my gosh! We're going to be late. It's already 9:10, and class starts in twenty minutes."

Ann put her hand over Emma's to calm her, "Don't worry, it doesn't take that long to walk across campus, but I would advise you all to hurry. If you want to get good seats in the auditorium, you might want to go a little early."

The people who were still eating nodded as they inhaled their breakfast in a most unladylike manner. Five minutes later, the group stumbled out of the cafeteria swinging their backpacks behind them.

Ravenous and exhausted after their first day of classes, the girls shuffled into the cafeteria for dinner. Each looked at the menu and read: California Style Baked Turkey, peas, carrots, and home fried potatoes. They eyed the California Style Baked Turkey suspiciously. The turkey legs steaming under the hot lamps didn't look like it came from California and the spices on the gigantic turkey legs didn't look particularly Californian. A cafeteria worker came by and dumped some home fried potatoes into the bins. The girls watched as the last drops of oil from the vat were shaken into the bins.

Lizzy raised one eyebrow in amusement. Turning to Marianne, who was standing beside her gaping, she said, "Well, I guess it's a toss up between Taradactyle legs with coronary clogging potatoes, or cereal."

Marianne sighed as she felt the rumbling in her stomach intensify. "I guess I have no choice but to eat this stuff. Pass me a plate, Elinor." With much pomp and circumstance, Elinor handed Marianne a plate. The girls watched as Marianne melodramatically stepped forward to help herself to some Taradactyle legs. They soon followed, except for Lizzy and Harriet who headed into the dining hall to peruse of a most excellent collection of breakfast cereals.

When everyone had settled down with their dinners, discussion of their first day of class began in earnest, starting with the first class.

"Psyc is probably going to be tons of fun." Emma said, cutting into her turkey leg.

Elinor nodded and scooped up some peas with her fork. "I heard that this year is going to be more organized than last year. Last year, they had different profs teaching different sections, but then the exams were all the same. So many students failed last year because of it."

"Wow," said Jane. "I thought that the profs would be more careful and make sure stuff like that doesn't happen. Oh, but then, they are probably too busy with their research to pay attention to stuff like that."

Lizzy dropped her spoon into her bowl and sighed, "Jane, Jane, how do you do it? I swear, I would have gotten tired of thinking so well of people by the time I'm ten. Now, I realize why mom likes you best. You are beautiful and angelic to a fault."

"No, Lizzy. You know me and you know that I can get pretty vicious at times."

Lizzy almost choked on her cereal. "Vicious? I think not. Ever since I can remember, you've never been vicious. Vicious would be something like: I can't believe Caroline actually has friends."

Marianne spoke before Jane could scold Lizzy again. "Yeah, I saw her sitting with three guys and another girl. How in the world did she meet these people? I've never heard her say a civil word to a single person on the floor besides Jane. The guys she was with were really cute too." The table erupted into laughter at Marianne's comment. It took a while before anyone was composed enough to eat again. Marianne shrugged and continued, "Well, I'm sure anyone who had eyes would think the guys were cute. Well, the one sitting beside the other girl wasn't that much of a looker, but the other two were not too bad. One of them is Caroline's brother. I think he's the one wearing the baseball cap."

"At least someone was paying attention in class today." Lizzy jested. She turned to Marianne and said, "You were supposed to be concentrating on the old guy at the front of the room." Lizzy scooted back in her chair to avoid Marianne's assault with her knife, and apologized. "Okay, okay, I'll lay off. Now, I'll have to agree with Marianne and say those guys were a looker."

"I wonder if they'll ever go out with one of us." Marianne pondered aloud.

Lizzy snorted, "Dream on Marianne. Guys like those like blondes..."

"Hey!" Emma protested from the other end of the table.

"Sorry, correction. Guys like those like blonde bimbos without a brain, who will hang on their every word, and make them feel all macho. Can you pass me a napkin, Elinor?"

Elinor handed Lizzy the napkin dispenser and said, "Give them a little more credit, Lizzy. I'm sure not all good-looking guys are like that."

Lizzy wiped her mouth. Folding up her napkin, she tossed it into her bowl and said, "I'm sure there are, Elinor, but I'm not going to believe that until I meet one." She stood up, "I'm going to go and do my prelab for my lab tomorrow. Later."

"Wait up, Lizzy!" Emma called rushing to collect her things. "I'm heading back too. I'm going to get some reading done for biology tomorrow." As expected, Harriet made her excuses and follow Emma.

Elinor, Jane, and Marianne watched as the three hurried off to hit their books.

"Keeners." Elinor mumbled as she stabbed at the remainders of her dinner.

Continued In Next Section