“So glad to see you, Miss Dean.” He rose and offered her a friendly hand. “Sit down, and let us have one of our old-time inspiriting talks. I was hoping you would come back to the campus. I supposed you would be in Hamilton, at any rate. I wish you would tell me more about the new dormitory. I had no opportunity to talk with you about it last June.”
Marjorie had intended to remain in the professor’s office not more than a few moments. It was more nearly an hour before she rose to say good afternoon. Professor Leonard had strongly urged her to serve again on the sports committee. The energetic instructor had refused to entertain her doubt that the students of the college might prefer the sports committee should be seniors rather than post graduates.
“I can assure you of your eligibility to the committee,” he said earnestly. “Yourself and two seniors, Miss Severn and Miss Moore, we will say, will make my perfect sports committee. However, think the matter over. I wish you to be satisfied. I know you are a very busy young woman. Help me, if you can. I need your judgment and support.”
Marjorie reveled in the comforting inner assurance of work well done as she left the gymnasium and hastened toward Wayland Hall. She had decided before she reached the steps of the Hall, if Phil and Barbara wished very much that she should accept the honor the Professor had offered her, she would do so.
Glancing up at the chimes clock she saw a quarter to six staring her in the face. “Election’s over long ago,” she said to herself. “I’ll have just about ten minutes to drop in on Gussie before dinner.” “Oh, bother,” was her second thought. “Gussie is probably out somewhere being rushed. I’ll stop at her door, anyway.” She hurried into the hall and made a running ascent of the stairs. She rapped repeatedly on Gussie’s door; at first lightly, then with force. Still no one answered.
Going on to her own room she found the door half open and no Jerry in sight. She flung off her hat and long coat and set off for Ronny’s room. The murmur of voices behind the closed door informed her that there someone was at home.
“Gadding again!” exclaimed Jerry as Marjorie walked into the room.
“I know you are, Jeremiah,” Marjorie retorted sweetly. “It’s surprising in you to own to it.”
“I wasn’t speaking of myself. Walking diagonally across the hall from one room to another isn’t gadding. But you—That’s another story.”
“What about the election?” Marjorie made a scornful face at Jerry and turned to Ronny and Muriel. There was excitement in her question. She felt the same anxiety for Gussie that she would have for one of her chums in the same circumstances.