There was a great noise of talk and laughter while they draped themselves about the room.
College girls in kimonos never sit in straight-backed chairs. They usually curl themselves up on divans or in Morris chairs, or sit, Turkish fashion, on cushions on the floor.
"Well, and what's the news?" they asked. Most of them had caught only flying glimpses of each other during the day.
"Wait until I make my annual inspection," ordered Judy, carefully examining the fourth finger of the left hand of every girl. "No rings or marks of rings," she said at each inspection until she came to Jessie, who was endeavoring to sit on her left hand while she pushed Judy away with her right. "Now, Jessica, no concealments," cried Judy, "and from your seven bosom friends! It's not fair. Are you actually wearing a solitaire?"
"I assure you it's my mother's engagement ring," Jessie protested, but Judy had extricated the pretty little hand on the fourth finger of which sparkled not one, but two, rings.
"Caught! Caught, the first of all!" they cried in a chorus.
"Honestly and truly I'm not."
"It looks to me as if you had been caught twice, Jessie," said Molly laughing.
"No, no, one of them is really Mama's and the other—well, it was lent to me. It's not mine. I simply promised to wear it for a few months."
Jeers and incredulous laughter followed this statement.