THE SORORITY PARTY
Five weeks of school had gone by--five happy weeks, filled with all
sorts of new experiences for Ruth and Marjorie. Pledge-day, the day to
which every freshman looked forward, was only one week off!
Although the ΦΑΒ girls had singled out certain individuals as their
favorites by inviting them for walks and occasional visits to their
rooms, they had as yet given no formal party for which invitations had
been issued. And, since it was understood that such a party was an
event to be expected, almost every girl in the class cherished the hope
of finding an attractive envelope in her letter box very soon.
As the time for pledging the freshmen drew near, Ruth became especially
uneasy. Ethel had not paid much attention to her lately, and she lived
in constant dread lest she should not be included among the guests for
the ΦΑΒ party,--an omission which would be a sure indication that she
would not be invited to join the sorority.
But Marjorie had taken little interest in such affairs. She became
greatly absorbed in athletics; she bent all her energy toward making
the hockey team.
To add to her interest in athletics, she became infatuated with Miss
Phillips, the gym-teacher, a young woman just out of college, whose
clear, bright eyes and pink cheeks radiated health. She seemed, indeed,
a living example of the wholesome life she advocated. Besides this,
Miss Phillips had a charm all her own; she inspired the girls with a
greater love of athletics than they would otherwise have had.
And so Marjorie, after the first two or three days, had not given much
thought to the sorority; in fact, she had even neglected her chances
of making it in her zeal for hockey practice. Once or twice Ethel Todd
had come to her room to ask her to go for a walk; but she had refused
because Miss Phillips expected her on the hockey field.
On one of these occasions, after Ethel had left the room, Lily looked
at Marjorie as if she could not understand her action.
“I wish I had your chances,” she sighed. “I’d make the sorority in a
minute!”
“You’d be better off if you made the hockey team,” remarked Marjorie.
“You need some good, stiff exercise, Lily!”
“I know you think I’m too fat, but I can’t help it. And my father says
it’s all right--he likes fat girls!”
“You eat too many sweets, and you sit inside too much!”
“I’m always hoping Ethel Todd or Frances Wright will come for me to
take a walk, and I’d hate to miss either of them.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Marjorie; “if they wanted you very badly, they’d
make it a point to come when you’re here. Don’t bother your head with
them! Promise me you’ll go out for athletics every day!”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that!” Lily protested.
Marjorie sighed. She turned toward the door, and put her hand on the
knob.
“I’m going down to see if we got any mail,” she remarked, as she turned
it.
As Marjorie looked through the glass door of her post-office box, she
saw a tiny, pale-pink envelope, which appeared very interesting. “It
must be an invitation!” she thought, as she excitedly tore open the
paper.
The ΦΑΒ Sorority requests the pleasure of Miss Marjorie Wilkinson’s
presence next Saturday afternoon at two-thirty at the home of
Mrs. Walter Johnson, 109 Maple Avenue.
R.S.V.P. to Mrs. Johnson.
Marjorie wrinkled her brows. “What can this mean?” she muttered. “The
sorority must be inviting all of us freshmen, so they can give us a
last looking over before pledge-day! Why, I believe that comes next
week!”
As she walked slowly out of the school post-office, she met Ruth,
entering hastily.
“Hulloa!” greeted Ruth. “Wait a minute, Marj; I’ll walk with you.”
She found a similar envelope in her box, and opened it. She said
nothing about its contents to Marjorie, but looked happy and mysterious.
“I suppose you got an invitation for Saturday afternoon?” Marjorie
asked.
Ruth opened her mouth in surprise. “Yes; did you?”
“Yes; I wondered if the ΦΑΒ girls were inviting the whole freshman
class.”
Ruth looked scared. “Oh, it couldn’t be that!” she exclaimed. Then
suddenly her face brightened.
“Lily didn’t get an invitation in your letter-box, did she?”
“No,” answered Marjorie, “mine was the only letter there.”
Ruth smiled happily. “I’m so excited, Marj,” she said, putting her arm
around the other girl’s waist. “Wouldn’t it be great if we’d both make
it?”
“Yes,” said Marjorie doubtfully, as if she saw little hope of such a
possibility. “Of course you will, but I don’t believe I shall. They
don’t know me. They must have invited more than four girls to their
party; then they will pick out the ones they want and ask them for next
week.”
“Let’s go see if we can find out who else got invitations,” suggested
Ruth.
Arm in arm the girls walked down the path in front of the school.
It was a beautiful bright day in October, and they both felt very
happy--Marjorie more so because she was with her old friend Ruth, than
because she had been invited to the ΦΑΒ party. After they had walked
about five minutes, they met Evelyn, Doris, and Mae, who stopped to
chat.
“The bids are out!” said Mae excitedly. “Of course you got one?”
“Yes,” answered Ruth.
Doris looked embarrassed. In truth, she was afraid Marjorie had not,
and she did not want to hurt her feelings.
But Ruth continued, “Marjorie and I each got one! I suppose all you
girls got them, too?”
“Yes, yes!” they answered.
“Isn’t that funny?” said Mae. “Could it be that they intend to ask five
freshmen to join, instead of four?”
“No,” replied Doris, “they have invited more girls this week than will
get the final bids next week. I was just talking to Anna Cane, the new
girl who arrived here lately from that California seminary, and she
told me she was invited. Poor girl! She’s awfully innocent; she doesn’t
understand a bit about secret societies. They didn’t have any in the
boarding-school she came from. I really think we ought to coach her!”
“Let her look out for herself,” said Ruth. “We didn’t have anybody to
help us, did we?”
“No, I guess not,” admitted Doris.
“It all seems silly!” exclaimed Marjorie. “If I ever did get invited to
join it, I’d try to change it into something with honor attached to it.
Why, as it is, it’s merely chance, whether you get invited, or not.”
“No, it isn’t!” said Evelyn. “The girls know who they want.”
“Let’s walk,” said Marjorie. “I want to sign up an hour’s exercise.”
“What seems so foolish to me,” she continued, “is that you daren’t
mention it to the girls who are in it. Now, if you four girls are asked
to join, and I’m not, I will never dare talk about the sorority to you.”
“That makes it all the more fun,” said Ruth.
“Perhaps for those in it. But think of the dozens of girls like Lily
who are just eating their hearts out because they aren’t asked, and
never would be.”
“What kind of society would _you_ have?” asked Doris diplomatically.
“Well, I’d have one that only takes in the all-around girl--first
she’d have to be excellent in her studies; then good in athletics; and
finally, generally popular. Then, if the society did interesting things
like take hikes, and study nature and first-aid, and maybe go camping
in the summer, it would be worth-while!”
Ruth laughed. “I’m glad you aren’t the boss, Marj! I guess I wouldn’t
have much chance of making it.”
Meeting one or two other freshmen who joined the group, the girls
dropped the subject.
Saturday dawned clear and mild. The freshmen decided to go together,
and met downstairs near the big lamp in the hall. Marjorie was the last
to arrive.
The girls were all dressed simply and in good taste--in summer dresses
and light sweaters. It was so warm that no one wore a hat. Marjorie
alone wore a dark dress, a becoming brown crepe-de-chine, which made
her look tall and slender. Her hair was arranged in a long plait--none
of the freshmen wore theirs up yet--and her brown eyes looked
especially soft and beautiful.
The six girls were in high spirits. Marjorie, who did not expect to be
invited to join, and Anna, who did not know anything about pledge-day,
each thought it was lovely to be included; Doris, Ruth, Evelyn, and
Mae, were each secretly sure of being one of the lucky four, but
nevertheless were nervously self-conscious.
The house where the party was held was decorated with chrysanthemums
and brightly colored autumn leaves, and although the day was rather
mild, a cheerful fire was burning in the fireplace to dispel any
indication of dampness. Ethel Todd and Frances Wright, two of the
sophomores, received the girls and introduced them to the hostess and
the other members of the Alumnæ who were present.
There were tables containing miscellaneous games for a progressive
“Salmigundi,” and the victrola was playing a waltz. The girls took
seats together on the sofa in the corner.
“Here!” said the hostess, standing before them, “this won’t do! You
freshmen are the guests of honor. Each one of you is to sit at a
separate table and get acquainted.”
The freshmen scattered; the hostess rang a bell and the games began.
Marjorie sat at a table where the girls speared peanuts in a bowl with
hatpins. Ruth, at the table next, was endeavoring to pick up dried
beans with two skewers. The games were so ridiculous that soon everyone
was laughing and feeling at ease.
After the girls had progressed all around the room, the bell was rung
and the score cards collected. Marjorie was surprised to be awarded the
prize--a beautiful bunch of violets.
“You certainly are smart,” said Ethel, “to get all those points.”
“No,” said Marjorie, “I’m just lucky! I love games. I guess that is why
I’m so crazy about athletics.”
“But maybe the gym teacher has something to do with that,” teased Ruth.
After refreshments were served, the girls sang some school songs, and a
few danced together out in the spacious hall. Before they realized it,
the clock struck half-past five.
“Oh, I must go!” exclaimed Marjorie. “Lily will be wondering what has
become of me.”
“Lily!” said Ruth contemptuously, “you don’t mean to say you bother
with her?”
“Why, yes, of course; she’s my room-mate.”
“Such a girl! I never could be nice to her. Nobody likes her.”
The freshmen thanked their hostess for the lovely time, and walked back
together.
“Wasn’t it perfect?” exclaimed Marjorie.
“Oh, I wonder who will be asked to join?” said Ruth with a sigh.
“Join what?” asked Anna.
Doris explained all about the sorority, and Anna listened in amazement.
“Well, I’ll never be asked,” she said. “They must think I’m terribly
fresh, because I guess I often asked questions that are tabooed. Would
you apologize?”
“No,” replied Doris, “just wait. I think the girls understand.”
At that moment, Miss Phillips passed, and already Marjorie had
forgotten sororities in her interest in the morrow’s hockey game.