“Yes! I was glad to hear from Leslie that she was.”
“She had Miss Taylor to thank for it,” Leslie interposed. “If any other girl in that crowd had given it, I’ll say Jewel Marie wouldn’t have had a look in. This Miss Taylor is rather different from the others. She’s stout and sleepy-looking. She appears stodgy until one happens to see her laugh. When she laughs, and that’s not often, her whole face changes. One sees humor written on every feature. She’d make a wonderful Touchstone in ‘As You Like It.’”
“Yes, and Miss Norris would make a fine Henry the Fifth. I’m thinking of putting it on at the Playhouse this winter. Still, she is one I am not anxious to manage. I am not fond of wrangling,” Leila made a wry face, “and I have heard her differ, far from politely, with the girls of her own set.”
“It’s this way, Marjorie,” Leslie broke in seriously, “Miss Norris at first almost ignored Miss Ogden. All of a sudden, she became quite gracious to her; she lunched Miss Ogden at the Colonial and invited her into the sacred precincts of her room a couple of times. Jewel Marie nearly expired with joy. She would have followed her crush about like a faithful terrier, if I hadn’t kept her busy trotting around with me. Leila and I both predicted that the bubble would burst soon after election. Since then Miss Ogden has twice invited Miss Norris to dinner at Baretti’s. On both occasions she has disappointed the kid at the last minute with flimsy excuses. She’s still fatuously blind, and the eye-opening process is going to be some shock to her. I’m tempted to let her hear me out, straight from the shoulder, then let her rave. By the time she finds herself dropped by her crush she’ll be able to meet the terrible blow without making herself ridiculous.” There was a suspicion of good-humored scorn in Leslie’s voice. “She isn’t remarkably tactful. She’s more likely to go up in the air over the snub, just because of her hurt feelings.”
“I believe I’d try the straight-from-the-shoulder tactics, Leslie,” was Marjorie’s thoughtful advice. “Miss Ogden may be angry with you, at first, but she will understand afterward that you were trying to help her. It will prepare her in a measure for what you believe is going to happen, even though she should resent your warning at the time it is given.”
“I’ll have a talk with her in the morning,” Leslie nodded with decision. “She was planning on having a good time tonight. I’m not going to spoil pleasant memories of it by croaking. Miss Felton took her to the frolic.”
“Oh, I remember her. She is the pretty, brown-haired girl who was the first to protest against the petition Miss Ferguson started on that memorable night last spring here at the Hall,” Marjorie said with a reminiscent smile.
“She’s a mighty nice girl,” Leslie returned, “and I wish, for her own sake, that this misguided roommate of mine had a crush on Miss Felton. Muriel’s show was a greater success than she thought it might be. The sophs at the Hall, who joined the Lotus Club as freshies, are a congenial crowd this year, with the exception of Miss Ferguson. She has attached herself to the New York crowd, and is very pally with Miss Norris. I daresay the N. Y.’s know my past campus history better than I do,” Leslie declared with grim satire. “They try to ignore my existence whenever they can, for which I thank them.”
“Wait until my theatre article appears next week in the ‘Echo.’ Then you will suddenly see a great change among them. What girl does not love the idea of acting? Leila and I will then be ranked as desirable acquaintances rather than antiquated P. G.’s,” Leslie humorously prophesied.
Mention of the Playhouse turned the conversation from Leslie’s “misguided” roommate into a more pleasing channel. Leila had decided to open the theatre with an elaborate performance of “The Merchant of Venice.” She proposed next to follow the Shakespearean drama with a revue, then, later, to present her new Irish play, “The Leprachaun.” After the holidays she hoped to put on “Henry the Fifth,” provided she could secure a cast to suit her critical fancy.