She was gone with the same suddenness and whirlwind speed that characterized all her actions. Gale and Phyllis looked at one another and burst out laughing.
Chapter III
BELL NIGHT
Classes started and with them the Freshmen’s troubles. New acquaintances, new scenes, new studies, and new instructors came with such rapidity that the girls were dizzy with it all. Carol and Janet were in the same dormitory building as Valerie and Madge. Consequently their close friendship was by no means interrupted. Gale and Phyllis went to see their friends quite often. When they were in their own room they found that Ricky Allen and her roommate joined them frequently. The girls were fast becoming friends.
Ulrich Allen, Ricky to her friends, was a breezy, friendly girl from the West and there was not a soul in the class who did not know all about her. Her roommate was a quiet, sweet young girl from Georgia. Ricky took pains to see to it that everyone should know about her, too.
Janet declared that Ricky was as clear and as unassuming as the country from which she came. Nevertheless, Janet and Ricky could be seen with heads close together very often, planning mischief or laughing over their latest bit of gossip.
Gale, since the afternoon she had rescued the Dean from the lake, had seen the older woman only once. On that occasion the Dean walked across the campus to the library with her. It was something she would take care not to let happen again, she told herself. It seemed that girls from the sorority house had seen her. The upper classmen looked with the utmost distaste upon such familiarity. They saw to it that Gale should regret such friendliness with the head of the institution. She was teased unmercifully and chided and scoffed at upon every occasion. Most of the girls did it in fun, the fun that upper classmen usually have with a Freshman, but one girl in particular seemed to personally resent Gale.
Marcia Marlette had been one of the very last Juniors to arrive for the semester. She lived in Penthouse Row, the fourth floor, in a room directly over Gale and Phyllis. She had heard the story of Gale and the Dean. She had seen for herself that the Dean did smile and stop to talk with Gale when such occasions presented themselves. She was one of the girls who was voluble in her protestations against the new Dean. She had been favored and especially privileged the two terms before. Now that there was a new Dean and a new regime her privileges were swept away. She was to be no more favored than any other girl. That didn’t please Marcia, and since she couldn’t very well spite the Dean she decided to torture Gale—supposedly a close friend of Dean Travis.
Gale bore the girls’ teasing silently, in amused indifference. She didn’t mind the stunts she and Phyllis had to perform to appease their sorority sisters, but from the minute Marcia Marlette appeared on the campus things were different. Gale could bear the other girls’ teasing, their songs, their sly pointed remarks, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t stand for it from Marcia.
“I tell you, Phyl,” Gale said stormily, flinging her books onto her desk, “I won’t stand for it. I’ll—I’ll tell Dean Travis.”
Phyllis smiled patiently. “Can’t do that, Gale. We’ve got to take it. Our turn will come.”