"Why, I have one just like it!" she cried. "But where on earth did you get this?"
"It was sent to our friend Chauncey," answered the plebe. "You see the yearlings thought he would take the bait and come; being rather weak on the point of his aristocracy, he was supposed to fall right into the trap and consider it a recognition of his social rank. Then when he came he'd have no one to dance with, and would be a laughingstock generally."
"I see," said the girl. "It was a nice tribute to our common sense."
"Ours!" laughed Mark. "The yearlings have small idea that you are sympathizing with the plebes."
"Well, I am," vowed the other. "With you, anyway, and I do not care in the least how soon they know it. I told father, and he said I was quite right. I don't like hazing."
"You may have a chance to let them know it publicly very soon," responded Mark, gazing at her sweet face gratefully. "That's what I came over to see you about. You see we want to accept the invitation."
"Accept it! Why, that would be walking right into the trap!"
"That's just exactly what I mean to do. Only I mean to put a hole in the other side first, so that I can walk out again and run off with traps and trappers and trappings and all."
"How do you mean?"
"You are not as acute as usual," laughed Mark. "I had expected that by this time you would have guessed the secret."