Her simulated indifference merely aroused in Dulcie a contrary resolve to attend that meeting at all costs. She had not been in Leslie’s room since the opening of college. She had a curiosity to see what changes Leslie had made in it from the previous year. Strangely enough, her own misdeeds never crossed her mind. She had no thought, when regaling others with her chums’ private affairs, that such treachery might possibly bring her a day of reckoning. The recent quarrels she had had with her former intimate, Eleanor Ray, and also Joan Myers, left no impression on her save a sullen dislike for the two girls because they had taken her to task for betraying their confidence.
As it was, she accepted an invitation to dinner at the Colonial extended her by Alida Burton. She lingered so long at the tea room that she walked into Leslie’s room at ten minutes past eight.
Slow of comprehension, even she felt dimly the tension of the moment. The Sans sat or stood in little groups about the room. With her entrance, conversation suddenly languished and died out. Every pair of eyes was leveled at her in a cool fashion which bordered on hostility.
“It seems to me you are all very quiet tonight. What’s the matter? Peevish because I’m late? Yes? What? Don’t cry. Ten minutes won’t kill any of you,” she greeted flippantly. “Hope I haven’t missed anything by being a tiny bit behind time.” She had adopted Leslie’s insolent swagger.
“No; you haven’t missed anything,” Leslie said dryly. “We were waiting for you.” She turned abruptly from Dulcie, addressing the others.
“Girls,” she raised her voice a trifle, “bring your chairs and arrange them on each side of the davenport in a half circle. Six girls can sit on the davenport. We are all here now, so we can proceed with the business of the evening.”
Her order promptly obeyed, the Sans settled themselves in their chairs with mingled emotions. None of them had a definite idea of how Leslie intended to conduct the embarrassing session against Dulcie. Face to face with the momentous occasion, a few of them felt slightly inclined toward clemency. The older members of the Sans were too greatly incensed by her treachery to do other than approve of the humiliation about to descend on the traitor.
It had been Leslie’s first idea to seat Dulcie in a particular chair. Second thought assured her that Dulcie would refuse the chair, merely to be contrary. She would undoubtedly sit where she would be most conspicuous if left to her own devices. Leslie decided the rest of the Sans must sit in a compact group. Wherever Dulcie might choose to post herself in the room she could not escape arraignment.
While the girls were arranging their chairs, Leslie occupied herself with hanging a heavy velvet curtain in front of the door leading to the hall. That task completed, she turned to find Dulcie had seated herself on the left hand side of the semi-circle, the last girl in the row. She had pulled her chair forward a trifle so as to command a good view of the company.
Dulcie was well-pleased with herself. She was still admiring her brazen entrance into the room. She felt that she had quite outdone Leslie in matter of cool insolence. In fact she was much better able to direct the club than Leslie. She wondered the girls had never realized it. She eyed Leslie with ill-concealed contempt as the latter seated herself in the chair of office which Natalie had placed in the fairly wide space between the ends of the half circle. Les grew homelier every day, was her uncharitable opinion.