. . . . .
Oh, little did my mother ken,
The death I was to dee!’”
“You left out,
“‘There was Mary Seaton, and Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael, and me.’
And oh, girls!—we are Mary B, and Mary S. and Mary C. and me. I must be ‘me’—M. E.—Mary Elliott.”
“Sure enough!” Jacquette answered, gaily. “Now, all you girls have to do is to fly around and catch your Queen.”
But, while the rest laughed, Mary Elliott surprised her by nestling closer as they passed into the restaurant, and whispering, with an adoring upward glance, “I’ve caught my Queen, now.”
This was how it happened that Jacquette began to be called the “Queen”—a nickname that clung to her from that day; and, in spite of the fact that she was never seen at spreads, and that she was even absent from the triumphant initiation, a few weeks later, when the “four Maries” were all taken into Sigma Pi at once, the new girls understood that she was identified with the sorority they were joining, and, for some reason—perhaps in the start a fanciful idea of being the “Queen’s Maries”—they insisted on choosing her as their sorority “mother.”