“All that social frivolity will not suit me,” said Marjorie, breaking the silence that followed Jane’s rapid flow of words.
“Why so?”
“Because my sister and I—I am sure I can speak for
her as well as myself—have come here for a definite purpose. If we had stayed at home we should have gone in for all those other things. We know a very earnest student who belongs to this college, and she has given us quite different particulars with regard to the life. She did not speak of it as you have done, Miss Heriot.”
“May I know the name of that girl?” asked Jane.
“Certainly you may; she is a great friend of ours. I believe her room is in West Hall; her name is Belle Acheson.”
A queer, convulsed sort of look passed over Jane’s face for a quarter of a second, then vanished. She looked solemnly at Eileen.
“Are you a great friend of Miss Acheson’s?” she asked.
“Certainly. We have known her since we were children. But why do you inquire?”
“I am sorry—that is all,” said Jane.