“Go ahead.” Leslie’s dark brows raised themselves in indicative despair. “I’ll join you presently.”
“I’m wondering if the prophecy has come true so soon,” were Leila’s first words as they shut themselves into her room. “Sit down, Beauty, and be at home.” Abruptly she dropped into a chair and burst into laughter.
“Never think that I am making a mock of misfortune,” she said presently, a mirthful quiver in her tones. “I’m still thinking of the amazing bounce that midget made into the room. It might well have been that of a circus performer. She little knows the honor in store for her. It seems I have found a star for my play ‘The Leprachaun’ and that without the trouble of seeking.”
“You are a funny old dear, Leila Harper,” Marjorie, girl-like, could not do other than laugh with Leila. “Something harrowing must have happened to Miss Ogden at the frolic to send her away from it in such a tempest. It’s early yet.” Her eyes sought the clock on Leila’s dressing-table. “Only twenty-five minutes to ten. The beauty contest must just have begun. She’s awfully tiny, isn’t she?” she again reverted to the subject of Miss Ogden, “at least two inches shorter than Vera. She’s pretty, I think.”
“She has the prettiness of a child when she is good-natured,” Leila said, “but, oh, my stars, what a temper! Until tonight she has shown nothing of it to Leslie, Vera and me. Vera will not be long in coming now. She promised to slip away from the gym as soon as the contest was over. Grant that before then Leslie will have calmed the storm and reduced the whirlwind to order,” she finished with dry humor.
It was Vera, however, who appeared in the room ahead of Leslie. She dropped into a chair with exaggerated weariness and a long, sighing: “Such a time as there has been tonight, over at the gym. Truly, girls, it was dreadful! Where’s Leslie?” Vera’s quick glance in the direction of Leslie’s room conveyed an inkling of the reason of Leslie’s absence.
“Yes; she is in Fifteen with Miss Ogden,” Leila interpreted the glance, and answered. “Now, for goodness’ sake, Midget, are we to know what it is all about?”
“You are; and this is the tale. There was a positive tongue battle in the gym tonight, just before the beginning of the beauty contest. It looked for a minute as though there might be some actual hand-to-hand fighting done.” Vera gave a faint little chuckle. “The trouble started as the result of an accident to Miss Norris’s gown. During the last fox-trot before the beginning of the beauty walk, Miss Norris was standing near the punch bowl corner, drinking lemonade. The floor of the gym was as slippery as glass. The sophs had put too much wax on it, and there’d been a lot of slipping and sliding done. The girls were having a lot of fun because of it. Miss Ogden and a tall soph, whose name I don’t know yet, were doing a very frisky variation of the trot. The punch bowl was one of those thin lovely tinted glass affairs and stood on a stand the sophs had fixed up and draped with the class colors. Miss Ogden and the soph were going it full speed. In the first place, the stand had been set too far from the wall. Just as the two girls came close to it, Miss Ogden’s feet slipped and the pair crashed into the stand. Over went stand and punch bowl, simply deluging Miss Norris with lemonade.” Vera’s hands went up in horrified recollection of the scene.
“Was ever anything more unfortunate?” Leila turned to Marjorie.
“Dreadfully,” Marjorie agreed. She found herself suddenly sympathizing with the small, rage-swept figure she had seen for a moment in Leslie’s room.