“The Wayland Hallites will all be tumbling over one another in a wholesale rush upon Miss Remson for 15 when you are through with it,” Vera made laughing prophesy.
“I shan’t be here to see it,” Leslie commented with a faint smile. “When I leave the Hall for the Hedge I’m going to do the Arab tent-folding stunt. Nobody except you two, Doris and Miss Remson, will be in the know. Maybe I’ll will the stuff in this room to some one. Don’t know. It will all depend upon what may happen. Let X, the redoubtable sign of the unknown quantity, stand for this year’s college madness. Who knows the answer?” Leslie made a gesture of light futility.
“Who, indeed? I am no sooth-sayer of such mysteries, but I know this,” Leila pointed significantly to Leslie’s chiffonier clock, “it is twenty minutes past five, and the five-fifty train is on time. Come, let us be up, and at it.” She cast a quick appraising glance in the long wall mirror near her at the smart figure in white wash satin reflected there, then walked toward the door.
Five minutes later the three cars of the self-constituted freshie-welcoming committee were eating up the few miles of smooth pike that lay between them and the railroad station of the town of Hamilton.
“Five minutes to spare, and an almost empty platform.” Vera scanned the station platform the trio had just gained with a half disappointed pucker of brows. “I had hoped we’d see some of the old guard from Acasia House, or Silverton Hall.”
“Too early in the game. These freshies we are here to meet are early birds. I’ve been wondering, whether or not, they constitute a gang; on the order of the Sans, you know. Miss Remson showed me the list of names. I noticed that ten of the addresses were New York suburban, and two Philadelphia suburban. That looks rather pally. What?”
“That is something I gave little thought to.” Leila looked interested. “I saw the list, and jotted down the freshies’ names, but paid small attention to the addresses. Then, too, I am not familiar with New York City as you know it, Leslie.”
“Let us hope——” Vera checked herself, coloring.
“That this new aggregation won’t turn out to be a second edition of the Sans,” Leslie finished the sentence for her.
“Yes, that is what I half said,” Vera admitted, laughing.