The end of the next day was productive of no better results so far as Adrienne, Judith and Jane were concerned. Playing escort to their freshman sisters seemed not for them.

That evening a quintette of girls gathered in Ethel's room to discuss the peculiar situation. The quintette consisted of Ethel, Adrienne, Jane, Judith and Norma Bennett.

"There's something not right about it," Judith emphatically declared. "I've tried all day to get a clue to the mystery, but nothing doing. Nobody seems to want the pleasure of our company to the dance. What luck have you had, Norma?"

"Oh, I invited a little girl named Freda Marsh. She lives away off the campus," replied Norma. "She and three other girls have rented the second floor of a house and do their own cooking. They are all poor and very determined to put themselves through college."

"When did you discover this find?" Judith showed signs of active interest.

"Miss Marsh sits next to me at chapel," replied Norma. "After chapel this morning I asked her to go to the dance. She seemed awfully pleased. Then she told me where she lived and about herself and her chums. They all hail from a little town in the northern part of New York State."

"Wicked one, why did you not tell me this before?" playfully demanded Adrienne.

"I haven't had a chance, Imp, until now," smiled Norma. "This is the first time I've seen you to-day except at a distance."

"Ah, yes, it is true!" loudly sighed Adrienne. "This noon I came late from the laboratory after a most stupid chemistry lesson. Such hands! They were the sight! I feared I should wash them away before they became presentable. After the classes this afternoon I must of a necessity go to the library. So it was dinner time when I returned, and thus passed the time."

"You're forgiven."

Her blue eyes full of affection, Norma laid an arm over Adrienne's shoulder. She had every reason to adore the impulsive, warm-hearted little girl.

"Norma, do you suppose Miss Marsh's friends have received invitations to the dance?" Jane broke in eagerly.

"I don't know, Jane. I can find out for you in the morning at chapel."

"I wish you would. If they haven't, tell Miss Marsh that we would love to be their escorts and that we'll call on them to-morrow evening. How about it, girls?"

Jane turned questioning eyes from Judith to Adrienne.

"It's a fine idea!" glowed Judith. "I'm sorry I didn't know about them before. The freshman class is so large this year. I know only a few of the girls as yet."

"I am indeed well suited." Adrienne waved an approving hand. "Shall we not go to make the call soon after dinner to-morrow night?"

"Yes, as early as we can," acquiesced Judith. "That is, provided these three girls haven't been asked."

"It would be nice to go and see them anyway," declared Ethel. "We ought to get acquainted with them. Where do they live, Norma?"

"At 605 Bridge Street. It's almost a mile from here. So Miss Marsh said."

"To go back to what you said a while ago, Judy, what makes you think there is any special reason for the girls' refusing you and Adrienne and Jane as escorts?" questioned Norma concernedly.

"Jane and I just think so. That's all. We think some one's to blame for it."

"To blame. Who then is to blame?"

A swift flash of suspicion had leaped into Adrienne's big black eyes.

"Some one not far away, perhaps," replied Judith significantly. "That's the way it looks to me."

"But could it be? She is but one among many," reminded Adrienne.

She understood quite well whom Judith meant.

"She's the only freshman who would be interested in making trouble," argued Judith. "She has probably been egged on by others who are not freshmen."

"Still it's not fair to lay it to her when we don't know anything definite," remarked Ethel.

"I'm only supposing," explained Judith. "I'm not saying positively that I think she's guilty. I'm only saying that it seems probable."

"I doubt it." Ethel shook a dubious head.

"I may be wrong," Judith admitted. "Anyway, it won't matter, if these three girls accept our invitation. It will show the plotters, if there really are any, that they haven't bothered us a bit."

"I'm sorry, girls, but I'll have to go." Norma rose from her chair. "I haven't looked at my books yet and I must study to-night."

"You're not the only one," cheerfully commented Judith, getting to her feet. "Come on, Jane. We have our own troubles in the study line."

With this the talking-bee broke up, Norma promising faithfully to be sure to deliver next morning the message intrusted to her.

Directly after dinner the following evening the five friends set out for 605 Bridge Street. Greatly to the delight of the three most interested parties, Norma had given out the pleasant news that the trio of girls they were to call upon were without special invitations to the coming dance.

The beauty of the soft autumn night made walking a pleasure. Five abreast, the callers strolled through the twilight, making the still air ring with their fresh voices and light, happy laughter.

The house where the four freshmen lived was an unpretentious dwelling, built of wood and painted a dull gray. A straggling bit of uneven lawn in front by no means added to its appearance. Even in the concealing twilight it had a neglected look. It was in glaring contrast to stately Madison Hall with its green, close-clipped lawns and wide verandas.

"What cheerlessness!" exclaimed Adrienne under her breath.

Grouped about the door, Norma rang the bell. A tired-eyed, middle-aged woman answered it. Yes, Miss Marsh was in, she declared listlessly.

A clear, pleasant voice from above stairs affirmed that information. Next instant a sweet-faced, brown-eyed girl had reached the landing and was greeting her callers with a pretty cordiality that was infinitely pleasing.

"Do come upstairs to our house," she invited. "It's a very unpretentious place, but home-like, we think."

Norma introducing her friends to Miss Marsh, the five girls followed their hostess up the narrow stairway and were ushered into a good-sized living-room. A rag rug covered a floor, stained dark at the edges. An old-fashioned library table, a quaint walnut desk with many pigeon holes, a horse-hair covered settee and a few nondescript, but comfortable-looking chairs completed the furniture.

On the table, strewn with books, a reading lamp gave forth a mellow light. The walls, papered in tan with a deep brown border, were dotted with passe-partouted prints, both in color and black and white. The whole effect, though homely, was that of a room which might indeed be called a living room.

"Please help yourselves to seats," hospitably urged their winsome hostess. "Excuse me for a moment while I call the girls. They are just finishing the washing of the supper dishes and getting things in shape for breakfast. We get everything ready the night before so as not to be late in the morning," she explained. Then, with a smiling nod, she left her guests.

"It's a comfy old room, isn't it?" was Judith's guarded observation. "This house-keeping idea of theirs is a clever one."

"That Miss Marsh is a dear," murmured Ethel. "I've seen her once or twice before on the campus, I think."

"I have the feeling that we shall like these girls," commented Adrienne. "This Miss Marsh has the sweet face and the courteous ways."

The entrance of their hostess and her chums prevented further exchange of opinion.

"These are my pals, Ida Leonard, Marie Benham and Kathie Meddart," smiled Freda, going on to name each of her callers as she performed the introduction. "You see I remembered all your names and to whom they belonged."

When a number of girls have the will to become acquainted it does not take them long to do so. Almost immediately a buzz of animated impersonal conversation began.

"We came here to deliver our invitations in person," Jane finally said with a smile. "Miss Leonard, I'd love to be your cavalier for the freshman frolic."

"Thank you. I'd love to go to it with you, I'm sure," accepted Ida Leonard, a tall, thin girl with fair hair and a plain, but interesting face.

Jane having set the ball rolling, Adrienne promptly invited Marie Benham, a slim little girl with an eager, boyish face, framed in curly brown hair.

This left Kathie Meddart, an extremely pretty girl of pure blonde type, to Judith.

Considerable merriment arose over the extending and acceptance of the invitations. Poverty had not robbed the four young hostesses of a cheery, happy-go-lucky air that charmed their more affluent guests.

For an hour the congenial company talked and laughed as only girls can. Kathie finally excusing herself, disappeared kitchenward, presently returning with a huge, brown pitcher of lemonade and a plate piled high with crisp little cakes, which she assured were of her own making.

Needless to say, they disappeared with amazing rapidity, the guests loudly acclaiming their toothsome merits.

"I'm glad you like them," declared Kathie, pink with pleasant confusion. "I took a course in cookery at a night school at home last year. I often used to make this kind of cakes for parties. I had lots of orders and made enough money to pay my tuition fees at Wellington for this year."

"How splendid!" approved Jane. Her approval was echoed by the others.

"I'm hoping, after I get acquainted here in college, to do a little of that sort of thing," confided Kathie rather shyly. "I could spare an hour or so a day to do it. Only I don't know how to go about it."

"Would you—could you—would you care to make some for me, some day?" hesitated Jane. "They would be simply great if one were giving a spread."

"Why, that's ever so kind in you," glowed Kathie. "When I just spoke of it I wasn't fishing for an order. I mentioned it before I thought."

"It's a good thing you did. I'll order two dozen for my own special benefit the minute my check comes," laughed Judith. "I sha'n't give Jane Allen one. I'll sit in a corner of our room and gobble them all up."

"I adore those cakes!" Adrienne clasped her small hands. "Would it then be possible that I might have some to-morrow? Perhaps two dozen? Ah, but I am not the greedy one. I will share with my friends, even most selfish Judy."

This provoked a laugh at Judith's expense. So it was, however, that Kathie received her first order which she agreed to deliver the next day.

As a matter of fact, she had been the only one to demur when Freda had announced that the Madison Hall girls were coming there that evening. She had advanced the argument that "those rich Madison Hall girls won't care to ask us to the dance when they see how poor we are." Now she wondered how she could ever have so misjudged such a delightful lot of girls.