“Yes; I remember her. I took a good look at those four. They were watching us, too. They were very clever about it, though.”
Marjorie said nothing for a little. Engaged with her hair at the dressing table, a decided frown shadowed her forehead.
“What’s the matter?” Seated where she could see her chum’s face in the mirror, Jerry had instantly noted the shadow.
“Oh, nothing much. It seemed to me this girl didn’t care about being friendly. She acted more as if she were trying to find out what sort of person I was. It wasn’t what she said to me, but her manner that made me think it. I felt toward her as I might have toward a stranger I had chanced to meet somewhere in public and exchanged courtesies with.”
“She was probably trying to find out your principles and so forth. She may be either a snob or a snob-hater. It wouldn’t surprise me if that were the main issue here,” was Jerry’s shrewd guess. “In either case she would be anxious to know how to class you. According to Miss Archer’s friend, Miss Hutchison, the snob proposition has become a grand nuisance here. Who knows? Before long we may be taking part in a regular fight against ‘our crowd.’ Maybe both sides are looking for freshman recruits.”
“Well, if it’s a fight based on money, you and Ronny are eligible to ‘our crowd,’” retorted Marjorie mischievously. “The rest of us can’t qualify.”
“It’s a good thing,” Jerry said sarcastically. “Any time you catch me toddling along with that foolish aggregation you may discard me forever.”
The measured raps on the door turned the attention of both girls to it. Jerry answered it, admitting Muriel.
“Top of the morning,” she saluted. “Ready to go down to breakfast? Have you seen Ronny and Lucy yet?”
“I am ready and Marjorie soon will be. No; the girls haven’t appeared. We have loads of time for breakfast this morning. No danger of getting left.”