One of the other guests was the little freshman Biscuits had first asked to the sophomore reception, herself a sophomore now, and one of Phi Kappa's first five.
"Was your class surprised at the elections?" asked Biscuits, glancing half unconsciously at Evangeline. The sophomore smiled gently, with a hardly perceptible recognition of Biscuits' look.
"Oh, no," she replied; "we expected them—except, perhaps, one or two." Her polite little blush showed her traditional surprise at her own success, and the junior gave the equally traditional deprecating smile.
"Who's the other?" she inquired bluntly. The sophomore was taken off her guard and glanced again at Evangeline.
"Why, some of us didn't exactly see—we think Alison Greer's terribly bright—we didn't expect—and yet, I don't know! After all, I think perhaps we weren't so awfully surprised!"
"Now, I wonder if you really weren't, or if you're lying?" thought Biscuits, and then, remembering suddenly, "but that's just the way we all talked last year about Evelyn Lyon!"
That summer Evangeline spent in France with Suzanne, who informed Biscuits before they sailed that though she couldn't find out anything about Miss Potts' parents, she had learned of the existence of a well-to-do uncle in New Hampshire who intended leaving quite a little money to his uncommunicative niece—he had given her the money to go abroad.
"She planned it all out, and asked to go with me, and I couldn't well refuse," said Suzanne, "though Brother will be wild with rage—he hates women who are not clever: il est un peu exigéant, mon frère."
By senior year Biscuits had very nearly lost track of Suzanne, who left the campus and spent most of her time sketching. Brother had shown some pen-and-ink portraits of hers to a great critic, who had declared that Brother had by no means exhausted the family genius, and Suzanne, heavily bribed, had returned to her last year of durance. The day of the Junior Prom Biscuits received a very French little note inviting her to "une première vue," and with the full expectation of a pen-and-ink collection, she confronted Evangeline, glorious in white satin and gold passementerie, with an amber chain and a great amber comb in her hair.
"Vous rappelez-vous cette première fois, hein?" Suzanne asked, with a grin. "Ça date de loin, n'est-ce pas?" Adding cheerfully, "L'oncle est mort et nous avons une jolie dot!"