Marcia knew it would be, and after a proper amount of hesitation and protest, she yielded, and the die was cast. The afternoon was an exciting one, and after supper they retired to Rosalind's room, ostensibly to study together. Marcia had asked and obtained permission to spend the night with Rosalind, and with the door securely shut and fastened, the business of dressing was before them.
All went as they had planned. At nine o'clock they cautiously opened the door. All was dark and still in the corridor, and they crept noiselessly downstairs to the basement, where the window had been unlatched for them by one of the maids, bribed by Marcia.
They climbed out, ran swiftly across the lawn, in terror lest someone might be looking from an upper window. But there was no sound or movement from the sleeping rooms. They climbed over the low place in the wall and found themselves out in the quiet street.
No one was in sight, and they scurried along, only intent on getting out of sight of those dark windows. At the corner two dark figures confronted them, and Rosalind barely suppressed a scream. But it was only Tom Marshall, who greeted them cordially.
"Hello, girls, here you are. This is Ray Gordon. We've got a car here. Hop in, it's cold out here. Glad to see you have warm coats."
The coats had been put on chiefly to cover their evening dresses, but they were shivering with cold and excitement, and were glad to find themselves in the warm car.
They were soon in Mrs. Marshall's bright parlors, where a merry crowd was gathered, and were pleasantly welcomed by Mrs. Marshall herself, and by Sara, who introduced them to her friends, some of whom were known to Marcia, but not to Rosalind.
"Miss Harland did not object to your coming, dear?" Mrs. Marshall asked. "I was sure she would not, she and I are old friends—"
"Oh, no, she did not object in the least," said Marcia quickly, forestalling the words she saw on Rosalind's lips, and replying, as she argued to herself, quite truthfully, since Miss Harland had not objected, not having been consulted.
The evening went on. Marcia was very bright and animated. The pink dress was becoming to her. Her cheeks glowed with bright color. A pearl necklace clasped her throat, and on one finger gleamed a ring—a beautiful pearl ring which she certainly had not worn when they left the school. Rosalind wondered. Could she have had the jewels in her hand-bag, and put them on in the comparative darkness of the car? That must have been it, she decided. But she felt uncomfortable, and could not throw herself into the spirit of whole-souled enjoyment as the others did. She was glad when the time came for breaking up, and their two escorts took them back through the quiet streets.