“Yes, that’s so. You’re clever enough to see it. Let me see.” Leslie wrinkled her rugged features in intense concentration of thought. She was very desirous of hatching a plan of malicious action. It could hardly be traced to her, if carried out, she was reflecting comfortably.
“What the sophs should do is this,” she said at length. “They should write two letters; both to Bean. One should be from the sophs themselves, calling Bean down for interfering with their interests and ordering her thereafter to mind her own affairs. The other—” Leslie hesitated. She wondered how much “Monroe would stand for.” She continued, “The other should be from the seniors with a more polite intimation that they are capable of managing college sports without P. G. help.”
“Oh, such letters couldn’t be sent,” vigorously disagreed Doris. “I wouldn’t dare suggest any such thing to my soph crushes. As for the seniors—that would be hopeless!”
“All right. Forget it, and listen to me,” Leslie ordered rather gruffly. “There’s one thing I can do for you to help you with the popularity business. I’m going to lend you my white roadster. I haven’t used it since I was here in the summer. It’s in a Hamilton garage now. I’ll pay for the up-keep of it a year in advance and run it up to the nearest garage to the campus. My garage will be ready by next spring, I hope. I’ll blow you to a stunning white sports coat and other togs to match the ‘Dazzler.’ I’ll open an account for you at the Hamilton Trust Company so you can entertain. I’ll—”
“But, why—why should you do all this for me?” Doris cried wonderingly, stirred out of her usual high self-complacency. “I couldn’t really accept so much from you, Leslie. You see—” her tones betrayed her reluctance to refuse Leslie’s magnificently generous offer.
“Because I chose to do it. What’s money to me? I’ll help you make yourself the campus beauty and bring back the good old days on the campus when money counted for something. Bean and that set of mush heads have turned Hamilton into a regular goody-goody shop. The sophs who rooted for you have the right idea. I’m going to be around here all winter so I can tell you a few tricks you’ll need to know.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know,” Doris repeated, as Leslie continued to put forward her offer. “My father has always said for me never to incur obligations. There’s nothing I could do for you in return, Leslie, that would count for anything like what you’d be doing for me.” She sighed enviously as she pictured herself in the white car.
“Yes, there are certain things you can do for me, later, when you’ve secured your own position on the campus.” Leslie had been driving slowly as she talked. Now she stopped the car at the side of the road. “You can help me make matters uncomfortable for Bean and her crowd. You can—”
“I’m willing to do what I can, in my own way,” Doris responded with a zest which betrayed her own rancor. “You can see for yourself, though, Leslie, that I couldn’t do a thing such as you proposed about those letters.”
Leslie laughed, silently, grotesquely. Doris could surely be trusted to look out for her own interests. “I said ‘forget it’ didn’t I?” she reminded. Her tones, however, contained no mirth. She was inwardly scornful of Doris for her selfishness. Leslie had not the least intention of “forgetting,” though Doris might.