Two strictly plain young ladies, roommates of Miss Balou's from Farmington, with large black sash bows in their hair, were introduced as Miss Barrons and Miss Cantillon.
"Elsa Barrons is perfectly wonderful with the dumb-bells, look at her forearm, and Fanny isn't good looking but awfully clever," said Miss Balou in a whisper which was already confidential.
Brother Charles now sauntered in and shook hands with the magnificent condescension of a sophomore.
"Have a cigarette before dinner?"
He flashed a silver case and tendered it to Snorky, who being unprepared, hesitated, and took one.
"Cigarette?"
"Love to but I'm in training," said Skippy.
Charles, having arrived at the age when everything should weigh heavily upon a sophisticated appetite, bored with his sister, bored with sister's plain looking friends and bored with sister's beaux, retired to the fireplace, where he draped himself on the mantelpiece and looked properly bored with himself, an illusion of greatness which was peculiarly impressive to tadpole imaginations.
The arduities of the opening conversation were fortunately interrupted by the announcement of dinner and Skippy, with Maude Adams in reserve, found himself at table between Miss Balou and the swinger of dumb-bells.
"You're a Princeton man?" said Miss Barrons after several long breaths.