Queenie considered the suggestion thoughtfully.
“No, I think we better not risk it. The girls like you, but it might be pretty hard to break anybody else in. I’ll learn ’em myself about that flag stuff, and threaten ’em that if they don’t get it, you won’t come back.”
“You’re sure that they’d care?”
“Positive.”
“All right, then, that’s settled. Now—will you stay to dinner with me, Queenie?”
“To dinner—me—here at college?” she repeated, incredulously. “I’d disgrace you, Miss Wilkinson. They’d all laugh at me!”
“No, they wouldn’t, Queenie. Well-bred people don’t laugh at others—besides there would be no occasion to. You know how to be a lady.”
“Do you honest to goodness mean that?” she cried, rapturously.
“I do,” affirmed Marjorie.
“I’m glad you think so—I’m awful glad. But I won’t risk it, Miss Wilkinson. I’d rather go now. Maybe, if I get more like you——”