THE DIFFERENCE IN PICNIC PLANS.
Marjorie studied the invitation in silence. Then she handed it to Jerry.
The latter read it and said "Humph!" in a disgusted tone.
"I didn't know what I ought to do about it," broke in Miss Towne
anxiously. "Who are the Sans Soucians? I've read quite a little of
college sororities. I suppose they are a sorority. Would they be
offended if I didn't go? I can't really spare the time. I do my own
laundering on Saturday afternoon. The landlady allows me to use the
kitchen. I don't mind telling you girls that. I would rather not give it
as an excuse to the Sans Soucians, though. Perhaps I would not be missed
if I didn't go. Do you think I would be? Are you girls members of the
Sans Soucians?"
"Well, hardly!" Jerry spoke on the impulse of the moment. Miss Towne
looked at her with increasing anxiety. Jerry's response was not
indicative of flattery to the Sans Soucians.
"The Sans Soucians are a private club of eighteen juniors," Marjorie
quickly explained. "They live here at the Hall. They are all girls from
very wealthy families and they entertain a good deal among themselves.
They have taken an unusual interest in the freshmen since they came back
to college. We heard that they intended to give a picnic in honor of the
freshies. I believe I would try to go if I were you. It will be a good
opportunity for you to meet the other members of your class. Besides,
Pine Crest is such a beautiful spot. The afternoon in the fresh air will
do you good."
Jerry gazed at Marjorie, a slight frown puckering her forehead. It was a
fair-minded answer and just like Marjorie. Still, it went against her
grain to help the Sans' cause along in the slightest degree.
"Have you met any of your classmates yet?" she asked abruptly. Without a
little freshman support Jerry was not sanguine of Miss Towne's enjoyment
of the picnic. The Sans' hospitality was not to be trusted.
"I know four girls a little who live several houses below me. They have
the third floor of the house and do light house-keeping. They are very
much pleased with the invitation. I wish they would ask me to go with
them. I hate to go alone. I will accept, though, so long as you think it
best." She turned to Marjorie with a kind of meek trust that touched the
latter.
"Perhaps these other freshmen will ask you," was Marjorie's hopeful
rejoinder. "If they shouldn't you will see them at the picnic and be
with them anyway, perhaps. I know an even better plan. Suppose we get
the rest of the girls, Jerry, and go over to Silverton Hall. We can
introduce Miss Towne to the freshies there and she will be sure to have
company at the picnic."
"All right, Marvelous Manager. I'll go and round them up." Jerry rose
and promptly disappeared in search of her chums.
"I don't think I ought to go," demurred Muriel, when invited. "I have a
hundred lines of French prose to translate. It's terribly hard, too."
"Translate it when you come back," suggested Jerry.
"I see myself doing it. It is half-past seven now. We'll be back here
about ten minutes before the ten-thirty bell. That will give me a lot of
time to translate a hundred lines. Now won't it?"
"Oh, come along. I'll see that you get back by nine-thirty, even if we
have to start home ahead of the others," glibly promised Jerry.
"I'll see to it myself," declared Muriel. "I intend to be a stickler for
duty this night. Go and get Ronny and Lucy while I do my hair over. It's
all falling down. I will meet you down stairs."
Lucy and Ronny also raised weak objections on the ground of unprepared
recitations. Nevertheless they shut up their books with alacrity.
Neither cared to be left out of a visit to Silverton Hall.
Presently the six girls were crossing the campus under the autumn stars.
It was a soft October night and none of the Lookouts had donned hats or
wraps. Walking between Marjorie and Ronny, Miss Towne began partly to
understand how very delightful some girls could be. She had never had an
intimate girl friend and she thought it remarkable that these
self-possessed, beautifully dressed girls should be so ready to show her
every kindness.
"You dear things!" was Robin Page's greeting as she fairly pranced into
the living room at Silverton Hall not more than three minutes after her
callers' arrival. "You certainly are unexpected but awfully welcome.
Come up to my room this minute."
Robin smiled in friendly fashion at Miss Towne, although she had never
met her. Immediately she had been introduced to the lonely freshman, and
Marjorie had stated the object of their call, Robin said heartily:
"I will go and hunt up our freshies as soon as you are up in my room.
Phil is there, of course. She rooms with me, you know. She swears she
isn't going to that picnic. I don't know what the others think about
it. Once get them together, it will be a good chance to find out."
Ushered into Robin's room, the Lookouts and their charge found Phyllis
looking girlishly pretty in a flowered silk kimono. She received them in
the pleasant, straightforward way they so greatly admired in her and
proceeded to show an especial friendliness to Miss Towne.
Presently the murmur of voices outside announced that Robin had been
successful in her quest. In fact she had found all seven of the freshmen
in their rooms and had rushed them a la negligee to her own.
"Here we are," she breezily announced, "and not a freshie missing. I'll
proceed to the great introduction act. Then, make yourselves at home."
As both groups of girls were bent on being friendly, a buzz of
conversation soon arose. Under cover of it Robin said to Marjorie: "What
do you think about the Sans' new stunt? You know just why they are doing
it and so do all of us who fought out that basket-ball affair with them
last year. Their motive isn't a worthy one. Still we really can't tell
the freshies that. Phil understands matters. That's why she doesn't care
to go. I know you want Miss Towne to go, or you would not have brought
her over here tonight to get acquainted with our freshies. She will be
safe from snubs with our girls. They are all fine. Too bad, but I don't
trust the Sans even to do this stunt in a nice way. They will be sure to
get haughty and hurt some freshie's feelings before their picnic is
over."
"I have no faith in them, but it would be hardly fair not to give them
the benefit of the doubt," returned Marjorie earnestly. "I wish Phil
would go. It would be a good opportunity for the freshmen to see what a
fine president they might have in her. She is so individual. I think she
would be popular in her class in spite of the Sans' influence."
"So do I. You ask her. Maybe she will change her mind for you." Robin
looked concernedly to where her cousin sat talking animatedly to Muriel
and Miss Towne.
The latter, however, had already broached the subject of the picnic to
Phyllis.
"I am so glad to meet all you girls. Miss Dean suggested coming over on
account of that picnic for the freshmen," Miss Towne had remarked
innocently. "I had made up my mind not to go, but she thought I ought to
and said if I met some other freshmen I would not have to go alone. I
don't live on the campus so I haven't much opportunity of meeting other
students."
"I see," nodded Phyllis. A swift tide of color had risen to her cheeks.
From the instant she had set eyes on Marjorie Dean she had adored her.
She now felt as though she had been lacking in true college spirit. If
Marjorie thought Miss Towne should attend the picnic, undoubtedly she
must think that the rest of the freshmen ought to do likewise.
"I will play especial escort to you at the picnic," she now laughingly
offered. "I hadn't intended to go either, but I have changed my mind.
Oh, Marjorie," she called across the room, "I'll take care of Miss Towne
at the picnic."
"Will you, truly?" The eyes of the two girls met. A silent message was
exchanged. "Then she will be sure to have a nice time," was what
Marjorie put into words.
Robin and Marjorie also exchanged sly smiles. Each suspected that humble
little Miss Towne was responsible for Phyllis's sudden change of mind.
More, it was apparent that Phyllis had taken one of her sudden likings
to the unassuming freshman.
Later, Robin found an opportunity to confide to Marjorie that she didn't
know how it had happened, for Phil was terribly obstinate when once she
had set her mind against a thing. Nor did Marjorie know until long
afterward that she had been responsible for a decision on Phyllis's part
which was the beginning of a warm friendship between Phyllis and Anna
Towne.
Meanwhile the prospective hostesses of Saturday's outing were spending
the evening in Leslie Cairns' room squabbling over their plans for the
picnic. They could not agree on the refreshments, the amusements, or, in
fact, anything pertaining to the affair. The truth of the matter was
they were already tired of their beneficent project. They had never made
a practice of unselfishly trying to please others, and the process bade
fair to be too difficult for their infinitely small natures.
For once, during the wrangling that went on, Leslie Cairns honestly
tried to keep her temper. The straw that broke the particular camel's
back in her case, however, was an extended argument between Dulcie Vale
and Natalie Weyman regarding the refreshments. These two, with Harriet
Stephens, had been appointed to look after the luncheon. Harriet lazily
expressed herself as indifferent to what the menu should be, provided it
was fit to eat.
"Cut out this scrapping and get down to business, you two," finally
ordered Leslie in her roughest tones. Followed an insulting rebuke from
her that brought a flush to both the wranglers' cheeks. When thoroughly
exasperated Leslie spared no one's feelings. "You decide on what to have
_right now_ and make a list of it. Trot it over to the Colonial early
tomorrow morning. If you leave it until even tomorrow night they may
refuse to handle it. Remember it will take time to pack a luncheon for
one hundred and twenty-eight persons."
"Dulcie wants to serve a regular six-course dinner out in that neck of
the woods," sputtered Natalie. "I am not in favor of such extravagance.
It will cost us enough to have sandwiches, salads, relishes and sweets.
Then there's coffee, chocolate, and imported ginger ale besides. I am
not going to spend my whole month's allowance on a feed for those
greenies."
"If we expect to make an impression on the freshies we ought to do
things in good style," Dulcie hotly contested. "I don't care how much
money it costs me. I have plenty of coin. The trouble with you Nat, is
you're stingy. You buy everything expensive for yourself, but you are
always broke when it comes to treating."
"I'll never forgive you for that, Dulcie Vale," was Natalie's wrathful
retort. "I think you are too----"
"That will be _all_," Leslie cut in sternly. "I said cut out the
scrapping, didn't I? Either do as I say or get out of here. We can run
the picnic minus either of you. Nat is right for once. Why should we
spend a fortune on this affair?"
Knowing that Leslie would have no scruples about barring them both from
further part in the picnic, they sullenly subsided. Dulcie freezingly
accepted the list of eatables Natalie had made up and temporary peace
was restored. Natalie bade Leslie a very cool goodnight a little later
when the session broke up. She was hurt and angry over Leslie's brutal
frankness. For an instant she wished she might be entirely free of
Leslie's domineering sway. It was one of those moments when a faint
stirring of a better nature made her long for harmony and peace. Her
ignoble side was too greatly in the ascendency however to make her
distaste for Leslie Cairns and her tyranny more than momentary.