Marjorie succeeded in obtaining two plates of ice-cream and some cakes, and, holding them high above the heads of the crowd, made her way to the distant corner indicated by Ruth. She found the freshman still sitting alone, half hidden by an overhanging evergreen, gazing dejectedly into space.
"Pardon me," said Marjorie pleasantly, "may I give you some ice-cream?"
The girl looked up suddenly, and for an instant her brown eyes met Marjorie's. She seemed pale and thin, and her eyes appeared unusually large and liquid, as if tears were never far from the surface.
"Thank you," she muttered, rising and taking the plate.
"And may I sit with you?" continued the older girl. "At least, if you are not expecting——"
"No, no; nobody is with me!" She flushed painfully at the reference to her own unpopularity.
"Ruth Henry said she was just talking to you," said Marjorie hastily, trying to cover her embarrassment. "And your name is Alice Endicott, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"And who is your room-mate?" pursued Marjorie, wondering why the girl, whoever she was, should desert Alice, knowing how shy she was.
"Esther Taylor," replied the freshman; "but she doesn't bother much with me."