Marjorie flushed angrily. “Clever stroke!” she exclaimed. “I never thought a thing about it. I was too crazy about hockey—and Miss Phillips!”
“Well, now I suppose you won’t care to keep up our old friendship,” said Ruth.
“I just told Lily, and I’ll tell you—it won’t make one bit of difference between my friends and me because I belong to the sorority.”
Ruth drew herself up proudly. “You needn’t class me with Lily Andrews—and go with me out of pity! I won’t stand for that!”
“Don’t, Ruth! Please! But I do care for Lily for her own sake. She’s going to make a dandy girl, only her parents have brought her up all wrong. When she begins to lose some of her laziness, and dress decently, and be interested in something besides herself and her father’s money—why, you’ll see that there’s really a lot to Lily. She’s so loyal, and so affectionate!”
“I suppose you’ll be trying to get her into ΦΑΒ,” jeered Ruth.
“You know I can’t do that. The charter limits the membership to four in each class.”
“I wish I could start a rival club,” observed Ruth.
“You can’t,” said Marjorie, “because the faculty have set their foot down against any more secret societies.”
“I always thought you didn’t approve of them at all, Marj!” This was said with a malicious little twinkle in her eyes.