Ruth went up to her own room and tried to write letters. Doris, Mae, and Anna, strolled out in the garden, and Evelyn went to the library to read. Lily looked in vain for Marjorie, and finally went up to her room and sat where she could see the door, listening for every step.
The clock on the library door chimed half-past two. Nothing had happened, except that all the sorority girls were missing. The groups of girls on the campus began to come closer together, to center around the side porch.
The clock chimed quarter of the hour. Still nothing happened. The girls kept walking closer and closer. One or two girls, tired of waiting, went into the house. Then, just as the clock struck three, Frances Wright, the sophomore President, opened the side door and came out on the porch.
The groups all stopped, breathless. Then they tried not to watch, to look unconcerned, and to talk naturally, though everybody was pretty sure they knew where Frances was headed. Looking straight ahead, she walked down the porch steps, across the path, and over to the big elm where Doris, Mae, and Anna were sitting on the seat around the tree.
With only a word from Frances, Doris rose and took the arm she extended, and both girls disappeared into the house.
Everybody drew a deep breath, and began to talk excitedly. Anna and Mae were trembling.
“Let’s join those freshmen over there!” suggested Anna. “Suppose you were taken—I’d be left sitting here alone, and I’d feel so funny!”
“All right,” agreed Mae; but before they had put their words into action, Marian Guard and Lulu Davids, two other sophomore ΦΑΒs, came out of the building and walked directly towards them. They went through the same proceeding as Frances, and Anna and Mae accompanied them back into the house.
Excitement now ran high. Who was to be the fourth girl? Undoubtedly Ruth Henry! Where was she? Everybody looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Of course, she’s in her room,” said one freshman; “and Ethel Todd’s the only sophomore left, so she’ll go there to get her—and we’ll miss seeing it. I call that mean!”