“Never mind. It isn’t worrying me,” was the purposely careless response. “To go back to what you said about Dulc not being broken. I have known her longer than you, Margaret. She can keep up a row about so long, then she crumples. After that there isn’t a spark of fight left in her. She always ends by a fit of crying, next door to hysterics. Isn’t that true of her, Nat?”
Natalie nodded. “Yes; Dulcie will mind her own affairs now and keep her mouth closed for a long time to come.”
“She’s afraid of me,” Leslie continued, her intonation harsh. “She doesn’t know just the extent of my influence here.”
“Could you truly have her expelled within twenty-four hours?” queried Harriet Stephens somewhat incredulously.
“You heard me say so. It would take a very slight effort to do that. I could wire my father, then——” Leslie paused, looking mysterious. “Sorry, girls, but I can’t tell you any more than that. I’ll simply say that my wonderful father’s influence can remove mountains, if necessary. That’s why I was so furious with that little sneak for daring even to mention his name.”
“Could your father’s influence save you from being expelled if different things you have done here were brought up against you?” demanded Adelaide Forman.
Leslie’s eyes narrowed at the question. It was a little too searching for comfort. In reality her father’s influence at Hamilton was a minus quantity. She had been boasting with a view toward increasing her own importance.
“It would depend entirely on what I had done,” she answered after a moment’s thought. “You must understand that my father would be wild if he knew I had gone out hazing when it is strictly against rules. He wouldn’t do a thing to help me if I had trouble with Matthews over that. If I wrote him that Dulcie, for instance, was trying, by lies, to have me or my friends expelled from Hamilton, he would fight for me in a minute.”
The Sans stayed for some time in Leslie’s room planning how they would meet further remarks leveled at them on the campus as a result of Dulcie’s defection. Leslie brought forth a fresh five-pound box of chocolates and another of imported sweet crackers. The party feasted and enjoyed themselves regardless of the fact that three doors from them a former comrade writhed and wept in an agony of angry shame. While in a measure their course might be justified, there was not one among them who had not, to a certain extent, and at some time or other, betrayed friendship.
This was also Dulcie’s most bitter grievance against those who had been her chums. She knew now that she had talked too much. So had the others. Still, she was sorry for herself. She had been deceived in Bess Walbert. Bess was the one who had circulated most of the Sans’ private affairs. She could not recall just how much she had told Bess; very likely no more than had Leslie. If they had given her time she would have been able to defend herself. With such reflections she strove to palliate her own offenses.