"h.e.l.lo, Madeline," cried Lucile Merrifield, spying the new arrival.

"When did you get back? Come and see the puppets with me. They say your show is great."

"It all looks good to me," said Madeline, "but--is there a top to spin?"

Lucile laughed and nodded. "That fat Miss Austin has taken in two dollars already at five cents a spin. She says she used to love making cheeses, and that she hasn't had such a good time since she grew up."

"That's where I want to go first," said Madeline decisively; but on her way to the tops the doll counter beguiled her.

"Betty Wales," she declared, "when you curl in your lips and stare straight ahead you look just like the only doll I ever wanted. I saw her in a window on Fifth Avenue, and the one time in my life that I ever cried was when daddy wouldn't buy her for me. Where's Eleanor?"

"I don't know," said Betty happily. "She was here a minute ago playing for the dolls' pantomime. But she's all right. Everybody has been thanking her and praising the pantomime, and she's so pleased about it all. She told me that she had felt all this year as if everybody was pointing her out as a disgrace to the cla.s.s and the college, and that she was beginning to think that her whole life was spoiled. And now--"

"Why, Madeline Ayres," cried Katherine Kittredge hurrying up to them, her hair disheveled and her hands very black indeed. "I'm awfully glad you've come. There's a cla.s.s meeting to-morrow to decide on the senior play and I want--"

"You want tidying up," laughed Madeline. "What in the world have you been doing?"

"Being half of a woolly lamb," explained Katherine. "The other half couldn't come back this evening, so Emily has been selling us--or it, whichever you please--at auction. Now listen, Madeline. You don't know anything about this play business."

Madeline had heard Katherine's argument, spun Miss Austin, and seen the "Alice in Wonderland" animals dance before she found Eleanor, and by that time an interview with Jean Eastman had prepared her for the hurt look in Eleanor's eyes and the little quiver in her voice, as she welcomed Madeline back to Harding.

Jean was one of the few seniors who had had no active part in the toy-shop. "So I'm patronizing everything regardless," she exclaimed, sauntering up to Madeline and holding out a bag of fudge. "It's a decided hit, isn't it? Polly says the other cla.s.ses are in despair at the idea of getting up anything that will take half as well."

"It's certainly a lovely show," said Madeline, trying the fudge.

"And a big feather in Eleanor Watson's cap," added Jean carelessly. "She always was the cleverest thing. I'd a lot rather be chairman of the play committee, or even a member of it, for that matter, than toastmistress.

I suppose you know that there's a cla.s.s-meeting to-morrow."

"Have you said that to Eleanor?" asked Madeline coldly.

"Oh, I gave her my congratulations on her prospects," said Jean with a shrug. "We're old friends, you know. We understand each other perfectly."

Madeline's eyes flashed. "It won't be the least use to tell you so," she said, "but lobbying for office is not the chief occupation of humanity as you seem to think. Neither Eleanor Watson nor any of her friends has thought anything about her being put on the play committee. I made the mistake once of supposing that our cla.s.s as a whole was capable of appreciating the stand she's taken, and I shan't be likely to forget that I was wrong. But this affair was entirely her idea, and she deserves the credit for it."

"Oh, indeed," said Jean quickly. "I suppose you didn't send telegrams--"

But Madeline, her face white with anger was half way across the big hall.

Jean watched her tumultuous progress with a meaning smile. "Well, I've fixed that little game," she reflected. "If they did intend to put her up, they won't dare to now. They'll be afraid of seeing me do the Blunderbuss's act with variations. She'd have been elected fast enough, after this, and there isn't a girl in the cla.s.s who could do half as well on that committee. But as for having her and that insufferable little Betty Wales on, when I shall be left off, I simply couldn't stand it."

Madeline found Betty taking off her doll's dress by dim candle-light, which she hoped would escape the eagle eye of the night-watchman. "I've come to tell you that the wires are all down again," she began, and went on to tell the story of Jean's carefully timed insinuations.

"I almost believe that the Blunderbuss was the tool of the Hill crowd,"

she said angrily. "At any rate they used her while she served, and now they're ready to take a hand themselves."

Betty stared at her in solemn silence. "What an awful lot it costs to lose your reputation," she said sadly.

"And it costs a good deal to be everybody's guardian angel, doesn't it, dearie?" Madeline said affectionately. "I oughtn't to have bothered you, but I seem to have made a dreadful mess of things so far."

"Oh, no, you haven't," Betty a.s.sured her. "Eleanor knows how queer Jean is, and what horrid things she says about people who won't follow her lead. None of that crowd would help about the toy-shop except Kate Denise, but every one else has been fine. And I know they haven't thought that Eleanor was trying to get anything out of them."

Madeline sighed mournfully. "In Bohemia people don't think that sort of thing," she said. "It complicates life so to have to consider it always.

Good-night, Betty."

"Good-night," returned Betty cheerfully. "Don't forget that the senior 'Merry Hearts' have a tea-drinking to-morrow."

"I'm not likely to," laughed Madeline. "Every one of them that I've seen has mentioned it. They're all agog with curiosity."

"They'll be more so with joy, when I've told them the news," declared Betty, holding her candle high above her head to light Madeline through the hall.

"Dear me! I wish there could be a cla.s.s without officers and committees and editors and commencement plays," she told the green lizard a little later. "Those things make such a lot of worry and hard feeling. But then I suppose it wouldn't be much of a cla.s.s, if it wasn't worth worrying about. And anyway it's almost vacation."

CHAPTER IX

A WEDDING AND A VISIT TO BOHEMIA

Betty and Madeline went to their cla.s.s meeting on the following afternoon very much as a trembling freshman goes to her first midyears, but nothing disastrous happened.

"I fancy that Jean has taken more than Eleanor and me into her confidence," Madeline whispered. Besides, the Blunderbuss was in her place, her placid but unyielding presence offering an effectual reminder to the girls who had been admiring Eleanor's executive ability and resourcefulness that it would be safer not to mention her name in connection with the play committee.

But before that was elected the preliminary committee, which, to quote Katherine Kittredge, had been hunting down the masterpieces of w.i.l.l.y Shakespeare ever since the middle of junior year, made its report. The members had not been able to agree unanimously on a play, so the chairman read the majority's opinion, in favor of "As You Like It," and then Katherine Kittredge explained the position of the minority, who wanted to be very ambitious indeed and try "The Merchant of Venice."

There was a spirited debate between the two sets of partisans, after which, to Katherine's infinite satisfaction, 19-- voted to give "The Merchant of Venice" at its commencement.

Then the committee to manage the play was chosen, and Betty Wales was the only person who was much surprised when she was unanimously elected to the post of costume member.

"I on that committee!" she exclaimed in dismay. "Why, I don't know anything about Shakespeare."

"You will before you get through with this business," laughed Barbara Gordon, who had been made chairman. "The course begins to-morrow at two in my room. No cuts allowed."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I DO CARE ABOUT HAVING FRIENDS LIKE YOU," SHE SAID.]

Betty's pleasure in this unexpected honor was rather dampened by the fact that Jean Eastman had proposed her name, making it seem almost as if she were taking sides with Eleanor's enemies. But Madeline only laughed at what she called Jean's neat little scheme for getting the last word.

"Ruth Ford was all ready to nominate you," she said, "but Jean dashed in ahead of her. She wanted to a.s.sure me that I hadn't silenced her for long."

So Betty gave herself up to the happy feeling of having shown herself worthy to be trusted with part of 19--'s most momentous undertaking.

"I must write Nan to-night," she said, "but I don't think I shall mention the costume part. She would think I was just as frivolous as ever, and Barbara says that all the committee are expected to help with things in general."

Whereupon she remembered her tea-drinking, and hurried home to find most of the guests already a.s.sembled, and Eleanor, who had not gone to the cla.s.s meeting but who had heard all about it from the others, waiting on the stairs to congratulate her.

"I don't care half as much about being on the committee as I do about having friends like you to say they're glad," declared Betty, hugging Eleanor because there were a great many things that she didn't know how to say to her.

"Yes, friends are what count," said Eleanor earnestly, "and Betty, I think I'm going to leave Harding with a good many. At least I've made some new ones this week."

And that was all the reference that was ever made to the way Eleanor's oldest friend at Harding had treated her.