"What did mamma's precious pet want with you?" For the first time, since acknowledging an introduction to Elizabeth, Leslie Cairns had condescended to address her.
"Nothing, except to return this. She carried it and forgot to give it to me when I shook her. I am glad she didn't wait and bring it over to Alston Terrace. I don't care much for that type of girl. She's priggish and goody-goody, isn't she?" Miss Walbert promptly took her cue from Leslie.
While the babyish-looking freshman regarded Leslie with a perfectly innocent expression, there was lurking malice in her wide blue eyes. She had not liked the dignity Marjorie had shown when returning her property. It rankled in her petty soul. With the gratitude of the proverbial serpent, she was quite ready to sting the hand which had befriended her.
"I'll say she is," returned Leslie. "I can't endure the sight of her and she knows it. You noticed she did not stay long. Lucky you knew Joan and Harriet. I'd be sorry for you if you had been roped in by that crowd of muffs." She laughed disagreeably.
"It would take more than that crowd of muffs, as you call them, to rope me in," boasted the other girl. "I saw at once they were not the kind that make good pals. Not enough to them, you know. Besides, I prefer not to be too friendly with a stranger until I know her social position."
Leslie Cairns regarded her meditatively, then held out her hand. "Shake hands on that," she invited. "You seem to have some sense. I hope you will stick to what you have said. If you do, you may count yourself a friend of mine. You will find, after you have been at Hamilton a while, that my friendship amounts to a good deal."
"Oh, I am sure of that," emphasized the freshman. She was not sure at all. What she had shrewdly taken stock of was the cut and material of the English tweed sports suit Leslie was wearing. It was a marvel of expense. It was conspicuous, even among the smart traveling suits of her companions. So were her sports hat and English ties. Leslie's assured manner also impressed her. She decided that this exceedingly ugly but very "swagger" girl must be a person of importance at Hamilton.
Unmistakable gratification looked out from Leslie Cairns' roughly-chiseled features at the freshman's flattering response. Like the majority of the unworthy, she craved flattery. Since she had been denied physical beauty, she built her hopes on attracting admiration by her daring personality. During her freshman year at Hamilton she had acquired a certain kind of popularity by her high-handed methods. Possessed of an immense fortune, and in her own right, she had acquired tremendous power over her particular clique by reason of her money. Leslie never "went broke." The majority of the Sans received liberal allowances from home and spent them even more liberally. Leslie was a good port in time of storm—when she chose to be. Once under obligation to her, she was quite likely, if crossed, to let her debtor feel the weight of her displeasure.
"Did that Miss Dean have anything to say about us?" Leslie casually inquired. Finding herself admired, she preferred to cultivate her new acquaintance rather than devote her attention to those of her class who had come down to the train.
"She said—let me see." Miss Walbert knitted her light eyebrows in an elaborate effort at recollection. "She said she had never met any of you girls and she didn't care for an acquaintance with you. I I had asked who you were because I wanted so much to know you. I recognized you girls at once as my kind. Just to see your dandy crowd coming along made me homesick for dear old Welden. I palled with a crowd like that at prep."