Part 16 (1/2)
”Oh, my stars, what a dream you are, little Miss Dean!” praised Leila, laughingly adopting a touch of brogue which she used to perfection.
Inwardly she was so delighted she could have squealed for joy. Her appraising eyes instantly picked Marjorie's frock as unique.
Veronica, who was talking animatedly to Vera, her escort, as she drew on her long gloves, looked equally charming in her own way. She was attired in an imported gown of pleated French chiffon in two shades of silvery gray. It was banded about the square neck and very short pleated sleeves with black velvet ribbon on which were embroidered a Persian pattern of silver stars. The wide black velvet ribbon sash was also thickly star-studded, as were her black satin slippers.
Jerry, who had gone on with Helen, was wearing a stunning gown of old gold satin with deeper gold embroideries. Lucy, thanks to Veronica, had had the severity of her white organdie graduation gown transformed by a fine white lace overdress which Ronny had fairly forced upon her, together with a pale green satin sash with fringed ends, a pair of embroidered white silk stockings and a pair of white satin slippers.
Muriel, who had also gone ahead with her ceremonious escort, was the true Picture Girl, as Marjorie loved to call her, in a pale lavender silk net over lavender taffeta. At her belt she wore a huge bunch of lavender orchids, for which gallant Moretense had sent to New York.
The gymnasium was not far from Wayland Hall, therefore the democratic element of soph.o.m.ores who lived there had not favored taking their freshmen to the dance in automobiles. Leila Harper, Hortense Barlow and Vera Mason had their own motor cars at Hamilton, in a near-by garage, but common sense smiled at using them in preference to the short walk under the twinkling autumn stars.
”Don't forget your violets, Marjorie,” called Veronica over her shoulder, as she went out the door. ”I'll wait for you downstairs.
Pardon me, I forgot I was being escorted,” she made laughing apology to Vera. ”We'll wait for you, I should have said.”
”As if I could forget these darlings!” Marjorie took an immense bunch of single, long-stemmed violets from a vase of water and wiping them gently re-rolled the stems in their sheath of silver and violet paper. ”They are my favorite flower,” she told Leila. ”They go perfectly with this frock.” She pinned them securely against her sash with a quaint silver clasp pin. ”There, I won't be likely to lose them!”
”Would you mind telling a poor Irish girl where under the stars that gown grew?” Leila had not been able to remove her eyes from it long at a time.
Marjorie obligingly complied, going further to tell of the happy surprise which had attended the receipt of it.
”Your father must love you oceans,” Leila said almost sadly. ”My father died when I was three. I have a step-father. He is not so much to my liking. My mother and he maintain a residence in the United States, but they are in England most of the time. I live with my father's sister when I am home on vacations. She is keen on clubs and welfare work. She allows me to do as I please. What kind of life is that for a young girl?” Leila shrugged her white shoulders with true Irish melancholy.
Dressed in a beautiful gown of old rose Georgette with a partial over-frock of frost-like white lace, she was a magnificent study. The combination of fine, strong features which went to make up her face, made it striking rather than beautiful.
Suddenly her brooding features broke into smiling light. ”Pay no attention to me. Let's be off to the dance. Just a word before we go. I wish you would feel that I am your true friend. If, when we first met, you thought me, well-not quite frank, it was because I wished to be sure that I liked you. That's all, except, remember what I have just said about being your friend.”
”I will,” Marjorie promised gravely. ”I shall hope always to prove myself your true friend.” She offered her hand.
Leila took it and shook it vigorously. ”Now we have a bargain,” she said. ”Never forget it.”
In the lower hall they found Ronny and Vera Mason waiting, and the four stopped only long enough to cover their fine raiment, temporarily, with evening capes. During the short walk through the soft fall night Leila made them all laugh with her funny sallies. She had apparently lost her recent pensive mood. Nevertheless at intervals that evening the hopeless melancholy of her tone came back to Marjorie. She thought Leila must have been born in Ireland, for she was at times utterly un-American in her manner of speaking.
The scene of festivity upon which they presently came was one of color and light. The great room was already well-filled with merry-makers, each in her prettiest gown. From a corner of the room, screened by palms and huge branches of red and yellow autumn leaves, an orchestra was playing a _valse lente_. That the sophs had outdone anything for several years in the way of artistic decorations was the opinion of the faculty, present almost to a member. Though they graciously lent their presence to an affair, such as the freshmen's frolic, they obligingly left the dance early, rarely remaining more than an hour.
The San Soucians were well represented in the receiving line, the majority having been appointed to it by their ally, Joan Myers. Lined up, they made a gorgeous appearance. The majority of them were attired in frocks of striking colors and displayed considerable jewelry. Looking up and down the long row, it seemed to Marjorie that she glimpsed the white fire of diamonds on every girl that composed it. It struck her as rather ridiculous that, so long as the Sans Soucians snubbed the majority of the students, they should wish to be on a committee to receive the very girls they affected not to know.
”Be easy,” remarked Leila, in a tone which only Ronny, Vera and Marjorie heard. ”We are to run the one-sided gauntlet, it seems. Let us be about it and have it done. Follow your leader and not too much cordiality.
They have none for us, though they will be sweet on the surface.”
These being the first remarks of the kind Marjorie had heard Leila make, she glanced at the latter rather searchingly. Leila was not looking at her. Her eyes were playing up and down the receiving line, a world of veiled contempt in their blue depths.
As the quartette approached the row of brightly-garbed young women, Joan Myers, who stood at its head, bent a steady stare upon Marjorie. Next she turned to the girl on her left and muttered in her ear. The latter chanced to be Natalie Weyman, resplendent in an apricot satin frock, with over panels of seed pearls on satin and a garniture of the same at the very low bodice. The gown was sleeveless, and smacked more of the stage than of a college frolic. A cl.u.s.ter of peculiar orange and white orchids trailed across one shoulder. These Marjorie could honestly admire. Of Natalie's gown she did not approve.
At sight of Marjorie, Natalie's face grew dark. Nor did the further sight of Veronica improve her sulky expression. How she managed to smile and murmur a few words of welcome she hardly knew. She was literally seething with jealous rage at the two freshmen. Her eyes did not deceive her as to the distinction of their frocks. She knew after a first appraising glance that there were no others in the room to compete with them. They were the un.o.btainable so far as money went. They were the kind of frocks that only proper influence might secure. She forgot her earlier grudge against Marjorie's loveliness in jealousy viewing her later offense.
Piloted by Leila, the quartette made short work of being received by as chilly a lot of young patronesses as jealousy could furnish. When they had won clear of the receiving line, Leila indulged in a subdued ripple of laughter.
”Oh, my heart, but were they not icy?” she inquired, her eyes dancing.
”Vera, did you see Nat Weyman's face? She used to be jealous of you. Now she has other trouble to worst.”
”Don't mind Leila's outbreak,” Vera turned to Marjorie and Ronny who were looking eagerly about them, charmed by the animated scene. ”She can't endure Natalie Weyman, and neither can I. This is not the place to say such things, but we are not fond of the Sans and we had rather you knew it. It will help you to understand much that may happen later on.”