The military reception was soon a thing of the past. Other events were being looked forward to with varying degrees of interest. The days were speeding on toward Christmas and its vacation. There had been the usual Hallowe’en party, without special adventure this time for Betty or the other girls. Every day at Greycliff was an adventure of some sort, Hilary declared. Where so many girls were together, under one roof, there was always something interesting on foot. Their hard work on lessons and the affairs of the different organizations had its spice or reward in the friendships and visiting, the parties and fun that came in between class work and study.
The new Greycliff had been duly initiated early in the term by a series of picnics. No storm had disturbed the beauty or safety of the trips. The girls had renewed acquaintance with all the natural features of the place that they loved so much. After Christmas there would be skiing and basketball games, the usual skating, when the ice was in condition, swimming in the pool at the “gym,” and the continuation of the practices in the musical organizations. That was more pleasure than labor. The literary societies were progressing wonderfully, according to the accounts of their members. The Whittiers were bending every effort to have original or instructive programs and were devoting much time to debate in preparation for the inter-society debate in the spring. The subject for that was under discussion.
Isabel was now president of the academy Shakespearean Society. That fact was enough to insure its regular programs and the appearance of all the members upon them. It was not found best to increase the membership too much, but by the advice of Miss Randolph, two other academy societies were formed, in order to give more students the opportunity of their drill in public performance. It was permissible to use material which had been prepared for English classes or the oratory department. As there was plenty of this, the preparation for society night was not a burden. There were always an “oration” or short address of some sort, a brief debate and musical numbers with readings or some form of entertainment by the “dramatic” members. Isabel flew around to arrange for everything, or to see that the various committees were doing their duty, and her room was a center for the Shakespearean members all week long. Virginia nobly responded to every cry for assistance from Isabel, and often filled in a place on the program for which some one had failed to prepare. Occasionally, Eloise or Lilian came down from their own society meeting to sing for them.
“You would not believe, girls,” said Isabel, “how Virginia Hope has come out. She takes to literature like a duck to water, and you ought to hear her debate. She can think on her feet. If we ever get suffrage, Virgie will go to Congress!” This was before Virginia, who turned to Lilian, saying, “Hold me, Lilian! This is going to my head! I’m not used to this from my room-mate. She usually says, ‘Virgie, you’ll have to do this—such a pity that Mary can’t do it; she is so gifted’!”
“I like your beautiful simile, Isabel,” said Cathalina. “‘She takes to literature like a duck to water.’ How forceful, yet brief.”
“What else can you expect from a Shakespearean?” inquired Hilary. “And didn’t we start that society? The answer is ‘We did.’”
“Listen to ’em, Virgie. Of course they’d take the credit for everything we do!”
“As far as I’m concerned,” said Virgie, “they may. But I’m thinking that little Isabel is getting her share of credit, too.”
“Seriously, Isabel,” said Cathalina, “we girls are just pleased to pieces that the society is going so well this year. And you got the very new girls in that are going to help you.”
“Sometimes when they say they can’t do things, and won’t be persuaded, I get awfully discouraged and think I’ll resign; and then I think of the Psyche Club crowd and say, ‘On to Olympus, aha!’”