"No, December," corrected Beatrice, joining-Frances in her search for the missing magazine.
"There," said Frances, at last, reading down the table of contents. "'The
Self-government System at Harding'—he wouldn't be mentioned in that. My
poem is next—he certainly isn't in that. Then that story of Eleanor
Watson's, and an essay on 'Sweetness and Light.'"
"Perhaps he's in that," suggested Dorothy, hopefully. "It sounds as if it might mean almost anything."
Beatrice Egerton giggled. "You didn't take the course in nineteenth century essayists, I guess, Dottie. He's not in 'Sweetness and Light,' unless Richard Blake is an alibi of Matthew Arnold's."
"And he couldn't possibly be in any of these sketches," went on Frances, anxiously, "nor in the editorials, nor in the alumnae notes."
"Of course not," agreed Beatrice, scornfully. "See here, girls," she added, referring again to the note, "he doesn't tell us the name of his contributor—the simpleton! That's what we ought to look for. He says we printed a tribute to the genius of one of his contributors."
"I have it!" declared Dorothy, pulling the December "Argus" out of Frances' hands. "The contributor is a member of the faculty, and the article is spoken of in the faculty notes. That's it, of course."
But diligent search of the faculty notes failed to unearth any item about an article in "The Quiver."
"Besides," added Beatrice, who had returned to the note once more, "that wouldn't explain what he says about college honor. And what is this about 'offering the proper explanation'? Are people supposed to explain compliments?"
"I don't know," said Frances. "I suppose I've made some dreadful blunder, and he noticed it. And to-day is the twentieth; he evidently wanted an answer by that time. Do you think I ought to telegraph?"