“Listen to this,” Gloria was saying, reading one of the tributes from the note-room; “this is a darling one:
“‘Dear First Lady of the Freshmen:
“‘Please allow an old, old Junior to express her joy over you and her envy of you. Once a long time ago—two whole years—she herself heard the Balm of Gilead song in honor of her own election to the heights you have attained to-day.
“‘I don’t think I ever felt so lofty over anything. And all the college experiences that have come since have never dimmed the thrilling feeling of that day or made it seem one bit less the best thing that ever happened to me.
“‘But I was afraid as well as glad: afraid that maybe I wouldn’t know how to do everything just as I should and that I might in some way disappoint the girls who were mentally carrying me about on their shoulders. In case you ever feel that way, little First Lady—and this is the reason for my note being written—I want you to know that you’ll be very welcome to come to the veteran—and get the advice or bolstering up she may be able to give you as a result of having learned from her own mistakes.
“‘Remember the juniors are just in college to be big sisters to the freshmen, and I hope you will come and claim the relationship the first free minute you have.
“‘Love and congratulations,
“‘Mary Marvington.’”
“Oh,” said Peggy, clasping her knees, “isn’t that a lovely one?”
“Well, it’s hard to realize that you are one of the great ones, now, Morning Glory,” sighed Katherine whimsically, “so that even ex-presidents will be flattered when you go to see them. And the condescension is all yours! Because a brand new freshman president is more in the college public eye than an ‘old’ junior who used to be once what you are now.”
“Great ones,” Gloria was repeating to herself.
“Do you suppose I really am?” she asked artlessly.
“Yes, you are,” Katherine said. “A few hours ago you weren’t half as much as Peggy—and didn’t have the outlook she had, but now——”
Peggy and Gloria simultaneously clapped their hands over Katherine’s mouth, and in her quick movement Gloria’s mass of folded notes scattered over the floor like a sudden storm of Luther Burbank snow-flakes.
When they had gathered these together again and had helped Gloria sort out the most interesting-looking ones to read first, they each kissed her and went home, leaving her well absorbed in her overwhelming correspondence before they were even out of sight.
There was a reception in honor of the officers that evening in the Students’ building. The freshmen were tired from their strenuous day, but they looked charming, nevertheless, in their soft silks and batistes as they drifted down the walk to the scene of festivities.