"Anyhow he is a gentleman," said Janet stoutly, "for he promised not to tell when I didn't even ask him not to."
"Couldn't he be a college man and a gentleman?" queried Fay.
"He might be," returned Janet doubtfully, to tease Fay who doted on the students of the neighboring university. "Oh, girls," she went on, "but we were good; we didn't ask a single question, neither did we speak to each other. That and one other thing were the hardest I ever had to do in all my life."
"What was the other thing?" asked Rosalie.
"Not to lift the bandage from my eyes to see what Mr. Van Austin looks like. I am paid up for all the untoward curiosity I ever showed in all my life, and for thousands of other things. To think of meeting a fascinating young man, and not being able to tell what he looks like, while he could only observe the tip of my nose and my mouth! It is tragic, absolutely tragic. You couldn't get up another situation like it if you were to try for a thousand years."
"We builded better than we knew," said Nell Deford. "Never mind, Janet, there are compensations. You and Teddy can assure yourselves that no other girls were ever initiated under just such circumstances."
"A poor consolation," sighed Janet. "For the rest of my life I shall be seeking a voice."
"Why must you do that?" said Fay. "When Becky and Rosalie both know him; nothing in the world would be easier than to bring about a meeting."
"Never!" cried Janet. "I hope he will never find out anything more about us, and all I want is merely to see him from a distance so I can wear his image in my heart."
"Indeed, then, I shall do better than that," spoke up Edna.