“You won’t think so after you know why she has invited you to her home.” The sophomore’s black brows drew together. Her round black eyes assumed their most “moony” appearance. “She invited you because she couldn’t find anybody else at Hamilton to invite. I have found out positively that she has invited four different off-campus girls and everyone of them has turned her down.” Julia’s voice rose in shrill triumph. “What do you think of that.”
Without waiting to hear Doris’s opinion she rattled on maliciously. “Miss Dean and that crowd Miss Harding is chummy with have been pretending to be the ones who have invited those off-campus beggars to their homes for the holidays. I know for a fact that none of them have done much in that direction. Miss Dean, who’s supposed to be such a sweet little model of goodness and generosity, is going to entertain at home—not the off-campus frumps. Oh, no! She is going to take Miss Harper, Miss Mason, Miss Page home with her. Miss Macy will lug home that tall, blue-eyed, lazy-looking girl that’s visiting Miss Remson. Miss Lynne has invited Miss Moore and Miss Severn. Even grouchy Miss Warner is going to entertain Langly. That’s the way they benefit their precious ‘dormitory girls’ that they are always crowing about.”
“I fail to see how all this applies to me.” Doris showed plain signs of becoming frosty. She was only half interested in Julia’s lengthy, spiteful argument.
“I’m only trying to show you how selfish and what fakes that crowd of priggies are. Just the same what I said about Miss Harding having invited you because she couldn’t get anyone else applies to you,” was Julia’s dogged assertion. “I heard she felt sorry for you because you—well, had no home influences—er—that you came clear from England alone and—that—and—” Julia floundered desperately, then paused.
“What does Miss Harding know of me? Nothing.” Doris sprang to her feet in a swift blaze of wrath. “Who told you she said such things of me?”
Julia solemnly shook her head. As a matter of truth she was merely repeating several of her roommate’s, Clara Carter’s, vague suppositions. “I can’t tell you that. She—er—I only heard she felt that way about you. You see, Doris, I asked you to go home with me for the holidays, but you said you were going to New York,” she reminded in reproachful tones. “I supposed you would go with Miss Cairns. All of a sudden you turned around and accepted Miss Harding’s invitation. I thought it rather unfair in you, when I had asked you first of all. I thought you might at least have come to me and said—”
“I will not be lectured by anyone!” Doris cried out angrily. “I don’t care what you thought. I could explain to you precisely why I accepted an invitation from Miss Harding to spend Christmas with her at her home, but I shall not do it.”
“I shouldn’t call a friendly confidence, such as I’ve just given you, a lecture. I’m sure I haven’t asked you to explain anything. I think I’d better go now. I’ve done my duty as your friend, even if you can’t understand that now. You will sometime soon, I hope.” Julia rose, stalked to the door; a picture of offended dignity. “You’ll be sorry if you go home with Miss Harding.” She could not resist this last fling. “You’ll lose caste on the campus. Remember, she has invited you as a last choice.”
“I am not going home with Miss Harding.” Doris brought one slippered foot down with an angry stamp. “I suppose I ought to thank you for telling me what you have. I don’t feel like thanking anyone for anything. I shall go to New York for Christmas.”
“With Miss Cairns?” eagerly quizzed Julia.