“Oh, Marjorie Dean; dear old Marvelous Manager! I’m so glad you’ve come back to the campus. I feel like squealing for joy. I was never before quite so glad to see anyone!”
Marjorie, first off the train of her party, walked straight into Robin Page’s welcoming, outstretched arms. The Sanford-bound party had left the campus under rain-threatening skies. They were returning to find Marjorie’s first Hamilton friend decorated with a carpet of soft cold white. On Saturday the weather had grown colder. Sunday afternoon had brought a mild snow storm.
“Gracious; you must have missed me! This is surely a cordial reception, Pagie dear.” Marjorie laughed her pleasure of re-union as she warmly returned Robin’s hearty embrace.
“I have; I have,” Robin’s tones rose in a mild wail. “Oh, you lucky gang,” she cried, surveying fondly the eight returned Travelers. “I drove your car down tonight, Vera. Leila’s hasn’t come home from the repair shop yet.”
Robin kept up a lively chatter as she was passed from one to another of the octette. Her extreme charm of face and manner made her place in the hearts of the little coterie of friends a very individual one. A less sensible girl than Robin might easily have been spoiled by the knowledge of her peculiar power to charm.
“Phil and Barbara ought to be here, too.” Robin made a searching survey of the white, drifted platform with her eyes. “They started out to see if they could beg, borrow or steal a car. They wanted to come with me, but I told them to go and hunt a car of their own. I said: ‘When you find it you may bring it to me,’” laughed Robin. “I knew we’d need two cars. I didn’t care to call a station taxi. Wait till you hear my reason for cutting out those same taxies.” Robin’s delicate face hardened a trifle. “It’s a very good——”
A sharp little shout of welcome broke in upon what Robin was saying. Phil, Barbara and Gussie Forbes suddenly appeared on the platform. Phil and Barbara were escorting Gussie with a great show of respect. Each had her by an arm. Both were endeavoring to look dignified. Gussie was frankly giggling her enjoyment of the situation.
“Captured a soph; tallest in captivity; absolutely primitive; untamed, probably belongs to the cave dwellers union,” recited Phil, indicating Gussie with an enthusiastic flourish. “She may even be a Celt.” Phil arched significant brows at Leila.
“May she, indeed?” Leila pretended deep surprise.
“You heard me say she might be,” Phil retorted grandly. “Anyway, she has a car that’s not in the repair shop. That’s more important this evening than being a Celt.”