At that somebody switched on the electric light, and the members, pulling off their black masks, disclosed their laughing faces.
"You stood it A-1. I was quite prepared for you to start hysterics and had the sal volatile bottle ready right here," chirruped Delia gayly.
"We call it our 'strength of mind' test," explained President Agnes, blowing out the guttering candles.
"If I had screamed what would have happened?" inquired Irene.
"Probation for another week till you got your nerves. We'd a business with Sheila just at first; she's rather fluttersome. Well, anyway, you've got through the ordeal, and now you're a full-fledged 'bud.' Aren't you proud?"
"Rather! Is the society limited to ten?"
"Sorority, please, not society. It's limited because there isn't anybody else in the Transition who's worth asking to join. Most of them are a set of utter sneaks. They may take Rachel's oath about preserving their nationality and all the rest of it, but if they're to be counted specimens of Anglo-American honor it makes one blush for one's mother country whichever side of the ocean it happens to be on. Oh, you don't know most of them yet! Wait till you find them out."
"You'll be glad then you belong to us."
"Not that we're perfect, of course."