"Which?"
"That tall girl in pale green at the left. She's in the fourth, fifth, sixth row; and a tall, gray-haired man is with her, and a young man the other side."
"Looking this way now?"
"Yes. I don't see anything so remarkable about her; but they say she's one of the most popular girls they've ever had here."
"That is saying a good deal," her companion answered loyally, as she raised her lorgnette.
"They wanted her for ivy poet, but she couldn't be everything. She's class poet, though, and was Portia in the dramatics, Saturday night."
"What's her name?"
"McAlister. Theodora McAlister. She looks it, too; but these soulless girls all call her Teddy."
"McAlister? That is the name of the girl who made such a record in basket ball, when I was up here, last winter. They had a song in her honor."
"Probably it's the same one. My cousin says she is very all-round. All the under-class girls adore her, and they say she'll be heard from, some day. Did you say Edith Avery is back?"