palatial New York home.

"Oh, he'll get over it. I am his only child. He'll have to come across with a forgiveness diploma sooner or later. It's the only kind of diploma I want."

For half an hour longer the three sat around the table, their talk animated but fragmentary, so far as sticking to one subject was concerned. During that time Lola kept her ears trained for some catch word that might explain Leslie's presence in Hamilton. Leslie, however, was on her guard. When at length they rose to leave the shop, she had arrived at one definite conclusion. She could not count on the friendship of either girl. Alida would be ruled by Lola, and Lola would cut her dead tomorrow if self-interest warranted it.

Leslie Cairns had deceived them in saying she was visiting an aunt in Hamilton. She had merely taken a furnished house in the town and was living there with a chaperon whom she called "Aunt Edith." Leslie was wise enough to know that, after her separation from her father, she could not defy convention with success. As a young woman alone, she needed the protection of a chaperon. She therefore engaged the services of a middle-aged woman of education and social standing who had met with reverses of fortune. Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d, her duenna, never interfered with her plans. She placidly fell in with them.

As it happened, Leslie's father had not entirely abandoned his unscrupulous daughter. He had determined to teach her a lesson. Shocked at her lawless conduct and bitterly incensed and disappointed at her expulsion from Hamilton College, he had treated her with great harshness. He had bitterly reminded her of his threat to disown her.

"You have your own money," he had said. "Use it to support yourself. I wish nothing more to do with you. I am going to Chicago for a week. When I come back, I shall expect to find you gone."

Characteristic of Leslie, she had accepted the verdict without emotion.

She had packed her effects, engaged a chaperon from a private agency, and left New York for Bar Harbor for the summer. Mr. Cairns had had her every movement secretly watched, however. Mrs. Alice g.a.y.l.o.r.d would not have chaperoned Leslie long had his private seal of approval been lacking. a.s.sured that she was in safe company, he left her to her own devices until such time as he should find it in his heart to reclaim her.

The summer over, Leslie had found time hanging heavily on her hands. She had had altogether too much time to think, and thinking grew into brooding over her deserved misfortunes. Strangely enough, she blamed Marjorie Dean more than all the others for what had happened. She chose to do so because she had never forgiven Marjorie for turning on her on the occasion when Leslie had led the verbal affront against Marjorie on the campus during the latter's freshman year. With that for a basis, she had laid the failure of every dishonorable scheme she had concocted at Hamilton at Marjorie's door. It was the old story of the injurer accusing the innocent injured party of treachery.

Shortly before her expulsion from Hamilton College, Leslie heard a rumor to which she paid no special attention on hearing. In the stress of the dismissal agony she forgot about it. Later it returned to her. It was the recollection of it which decided her to take up her residence in the town of Hamilton. She also had a certain amount of curiosity regarding what went on at Hamilton. Lola and Alida were still there. She had thought she might cultivate their society.

Leslie was shrewd enough to discern, that, while Lola Elster would gladly accept entertainment from her in New York, she was not desirous of the old campus intimacy with her.

Back in her roadster, having bade the two seniors a nonchalant farewell with, "I'll lunch you at my aunt's house some day soon," she drove down the shady street half hurt, half amused.

"Lola's the same greedy, grabbing kid," she reflected. "That settles both of them for me. I couldn't depend upon them to find out a thing for me. Bess Walbert is anything but trustworthy. Still I may have to make up with her yet."

CHAPTER IX-CLEARING AWAY SNAGS

Marjorie had fully intended to fathom the mystery of the two freshmen's apparent grudge against Jerry and herself without delay. Pressure of college affairs, social and scholastic, prevented the solving of the annoying problem. The return of the Silvertonites kept the Ten Travelers constantly traveling back and forth between Wayland and Silverton Halls.

With the return of Phyllis Moore, the Moore Symphony Orchestra made itself heard about the campus on moonlight evenings. Almost every night for a week serenading went on.

During the days the two sets of girls took turns doing station duty. The freshman cla.s.s was larger than ever before. One hundred and forty-three freshmen were registered. Every available room in the campus houses had been taken and a few boarding houses off the campus were well filled.

"It seems too bad we don't know our own freshies as well as we know some of the others," deplored Marjorie one evening about two weeks after the opening of college. "I have hardly seen those two girls, Miss Wilmot and Miss Robbins, since the morning Ronny and I talked to them on the campus. One can't count seeing them at meals, because, then, they're too far away to talk with. I went down to call on them twice. Once, they weren't there, and the other time they had a 'Busy' sign up."

"I haven't been near them. I suppose I should have made a call, but I was anxious for you to break the ice. I am a timid little thing, you know," Jerry ended with a chuckle.

"Well, I shall make a third attempt this evening," decided Marjorie.

"Phil says the sophs are talking about giving the frolic earlier this year. There are so many freshies the sophs think they ought to hurry and make them feel at home. That means some of the juniors and seniors to the rescue. The sophs are in the minority again."

"Shall you play escort?" asked Jerry. "If you do, then I'm in for it, too. 'Whither thou goest.' You get me?"

"Yes, I get you. I'll do escort duty if I'm asked."

"You'll be asked, all right enough," Jerry predicted. "Do you need me to help you make calls this evening?"

"I wish you would go. You haven't met Miss Wilmot or Miss Robbins yet.

We will go and see them soon after dinner. I have a hard Philology lesson ahead of me this evening and must study. So we mustn't stay long."

"I notice Miss Walbert is very chummy with that last lot of freshies who came here," observed Jerry. "Funny, the freshies here are divided into two crowds. There's that first crowd of twelve. The other six, the ones who seem to admire Miss Walbert, are another close corporation. Neither crowd appears to exchange much friendliness. It's a case of once we used to be sn.o.bbish at Wayland Hall, but now we're clannish. Our own gang is just about as clannish as the others. That ain't no way to be sociable, is it?"

"No, it ain't," laughed Marjorie, repeating Jerry's intentional lapse from correct English. "We'll have to see what we can do toward amendment."

Shortly after dinner that evening, Marjorie and Jerry paused before Room Number 20. Marjorie rapped lightly. Sound of voices from within proclaimed the fact that the two freshmen were at home.

"Why, good evening," Charlotte Robbins greeted the pair with apparent surprise. "Won't you come in? We-we thought you had forgotten us," she added, flushing a little.

"I have been here twice before." Marjorie went on to explain the non-success of her former calls. "I preferred not to bother you when you were with your friends. I have brought my room-mate, Miss Macy, with me." She introduced Jerry and the two girls accepted the chairs politely offered them. Marjorie sensed a subtle change from the former friendly att.i.tude the freshmen had exhibited on the campus that morning.

Jerry was distinctly ill at ease, though she strove to be placidly agreeable. She was mentally ticketing their call as a "freeze-out." She had already vowed within herself that this should be her last effort to cultivate this particular crowd of freshmen.

Marjorie, meanwhile, was trying to make pleasant headway against an intangible barrier. It had not been there on that first sunny morning of acquaintance.

In the midst of a lukewarm conversation concerning college matters, the door was suddenly flung open. A tall girl in a baby-blue silk kimono breezed in. She was well over the threshold before she took in the situation. With an "Oh, excuse me! Didn't know you had company," she bolted. The sarcastic emphasis on the word "company" brought a flush to the faces of the guests.

"Please don't mind Gussie," apologized Calista, looking vexed. "She has a habit of bolting in and out like a young hurricane. We are used to her. She is a fine girl, but sometimes she-" Calista broke off in confusion.

There was an embarra.s.sing moment of silence, shattered by Marjorie's clear purposeful tones.

"Since you have mentioned your friend, I should like to ask you if you know her grievance against us. We, Miss Macy and I, have thought she must have one. The way she spoke just now confirms it. We know of no reason for it. It is too bad. We have the very kindliest feeling toward the Bertram freshies."

"There; what did I tell you?" Instead of answering Marjorie, Calista turned in triumph to Charlotte.

Charlotte nodded. "I think we had best tell Miss Dean the whole thing,"

she declared. "You go ahead, Cally. I'll put in the Selahs at the appropriate moments."

"I will, and glad to get it off my chest." Calista breathed a long sigh.

"First, please tell me, did you say anything against us, Augusta Forbes in particular, on the evening at Baretti's. Augusta's the girl who was just here."

"We spoke of you and the noise you were making, but only in amus.e.m.e.nt,"

Marjorie returned with candor.

"Gus declares you were making fun of her as you walked toward the door.

She says Miss Macy said something about her that made you all laugh."

Calista regarded Marjorie searchingly as though to plumb her honesty.

"We did laugh at Jeremiah." Marjorie unconsciously used the name Jerry most often received from her chums. "She made a funny remark about you girls staring at her. She hates being stared at about as much as anyone I ever knew. It wasn't what she said so much as the way she said it that made us laugh. We weren't making fun of you."

"I wish you could make Gus believe that," Charlotte said. "She has taken the matter to heart and is down on you. We were so pleased to know you that morning under the trees. Then you promised to come and see us and when you didn't we thought you didn't care to bother with us. Besides,"

she hesitated, then went on straightforwardly, "someone told us that you made a fuss over a freshie one day and cut her the next. It's horrid to have to say these things, but I would like to have you know about them."

"Frankly, we haven't wished to believe them," interposed Calista. "We hope to be friends with you, Miss Dean, and with Miss Lynne and Miss Macy. We have heard quite a little of your popularity on the campus. It isn't because of that we wish to know you. It's because we like you.

There!"

"Much obliged." Marjorie put out her hand. "We felt the same about you two girls. I am so sorry Miss Forbes is down on us. Please tell her for me that we wish to be her friends."

"I don't know how anyone can say Marjorie is anything but friendly and sincere," Jerry broke forth in protest. "I have a strong inkling as to _where_ that remark came from."