Robin declared enthusiastically after her first morning spent at the site that just to see the men at work was inspiring. The minds of the two young women had been trained to grasp the principle of a problem or operation. It was not long before they had become familiar with the work in hand and understood much of it in detail.
Peter Graham was quietly happy over the rapid progress which was being made in the demolishment of the row of old houses. For years he had waited and longed for “a big chance.” Now it had come. He was devoted hardly less loyally to the building of the dormitory than were Robin and Marjorie.
Leila and Vera spent the days thinking up pleasant amusements for Page and Dean’s leisure hours. They were usually on hand with the roadster to take the pair of promoters to and from the site and for long drives afterward. They simulated a respect for Page and Dean which was flattering, but not genuine. They gave each other much loud advice about breaking in on a rising firm during business hours. Neither followed either her own or the other’s caution.
Since their kindly but unsuccessful attempt to welcome Doris Monroe to Wayland Hall and Hamilton College, none of the Travelers had ventured further friendly overtures. The four girls at the Hall breakfasted early. Miss Monroe invariably breakfasted as late as she could before the close of the breakfast hour. Once or twice they had met her sauntering into the dining room as they were leaving it.
A half smiling, indifferent nod, intended to include the four was indicative of her lack of interest in her recent callers. Occasionally one or another of the chums would chance to encounter her about the Hall or on the campus. She met them with the same slighting manner; only a remove from discourtesy.
“Miss Monroe of London and Paris has the manners of neither,” Leila delivered this unflattering opinion of the aloof student one Sunday afternoon. The chums had just encountered Miss Monroe on their way toward the east gate and the garage. “She is as rude as Leslie Cairns used to be. What a fine time the two could have together. One has no more politeness than the other.”
“She is so lovely, even though she isn’t a tiny bit cordial,” Marjorie said charitably. “It seems too bad that we can’t find a way to charm our fairy-tale princess.”
“Let her strictly alone,” was Leila’s succinct advice. “She would not be grateful to us for our trouble.”
“I can’t help agreeing with you, Leila,” Kathie said frankly. “Later she may thaw and decide she would like to know us. If that should happen, we’re not small-souled enough to resent past snubs.”
“Neither do we belong to the Royal Order of the Doormat,” Leila retorted. “She will have to turn most gracious if my wounded Irish pride is to be soothed.” Leila’s accompanying grin indicated precisely how greatly her sensitive Irish pride had been hurt.