“We’ll invite the Lady of the Arms and the Empress of Wayland Hall to the initiation, then they won’t dare complain,” Marjorie laughed. “Too bad we can’t have it in good old 15. It’s larger than either Ronny’s or Muriel’s room.”
“Has someone taken 15?” Jerry asked quickly. “I forgot to ask you about it when you came from the Hall last time.”
“Miss Remson said the other day that she was considering a student who might take it. She seemed rather indefinite about it, so I didn’t ask her any further questions. Will you come to Leslie’s initiation, Miss Susanna?”
In spite of Marjorie’s merry assertion that the Lady of the Arms would be present on the gala occasion she now turned to the mistress of the Arms with the pretty deference which she had ever accorded Miss Susanna since their first meeting.
“Thank you, Marvelous Manager. I shall be delighted to attend such a splendid demonstration of your marvelous managing,” was the old lady’s indulgent reply.
“And we shall be even more delighted to have you.” Marjorie rose from her chair and offered a gay arm to her hostess. “Let me escort you into the sitting room, dear Goldendede.”
“No; let me.” Jerry offered the other arm.
The three paraded out of the morning room and down the wide, old-fashioned center hall to the sitting room.
“You’d better hurry up if you expect to rake any leaves today,” was Jonas’s succinct advice to Jerry as he appeared in the hall in overalls to consult Miss Susanna about certain of her rose bushes. “I’ll have ’em all raked up myself before you get near ’em.”
This warning, which was Jonas’s favorite method of joking sent Jerry’s gallantry to the winds. She dropped Miss Susanna’s arm and fled for the tool house and a rake.