“Who is Gladys Merle?” Adele asked.
Evelyn arose to go as she replied, “Her father is an immensely wealthy man living in Chicago. He is called a Beef King and Gladys Merle seems to think that in some way entitles her to the distinction of royalty. She puts on a great many foolish airs and affectations. Of course it is easy for any one used to good breeding to tell that Gladys Merle has recently risen from the ranks of the uncultured. Not that that would matter in the least if she were a sweet sensible girl, but she isn’t. She leads a clique of her own and they try to cultivate only the very rich and they snub each newcomer until they find out her social standing.”
“Up to the present moment I have been completely and entirely snubbed,” Carol exclaimed brightly. “Come, Evelyn, we must hasten, for the half-hour will soon be over.”
When the second bell rang, the girls met in their Apple-Blossom Alley and Evelyn led them down the front stairs and into the dining-room where there were several long tables.
Miss Sharpleigh, the teacher in attendance, welcomed the new pupils and told them that Madame Deriby had granted them the privilege of having one table just by themselves.
“Oh, isn’t this jolly?” Betty Burd exclaimed when they were seated, as she looked about the dining-room with her friendliest smile.
“Evelyn,” Bertha Angel said softly, “who is the girl across the room? The one with the fluffy blonde hair and the china-blue eyes?”
“Why, that is Gladys Merle Jones. The girl I was telling you about,” Evelyn replied.
“I thought so,” Bertha declared with twinkling eyes. “Well, she will surely snub me because my father is a grocer.”
“And me because my dad owns a dry-goods store,” Peggy Pierce chimed in.