Politely responding to the greetings extended to herself and Ida as they advanced down the line, they came at last to the girl who stood next to Marian. The instant Jane had touched hands with the former she drew Ida's arm within her own and turned abruptly away, without giving Marian time to do more than glare angrily after her. Jane realized very well that what she had done was in the nature of a rudeness, yet she felt that under the circumstances it was justifiable.

To her great relief, Judith, Adrienne and Ethel did precisely the same thing.

"Well, we came through with our heads still on," congratulated naughty Judith in Jane's ear, the moment they had won clear of the fateful receiving line. "Clever little Janie. I saw and I heeded. Our dear Marian looked ready to bite. I think she would have snapped anyway, if we'd given her half a chance. Good thing she was on the end. I'm sure nobody noticed."

"I hope no one did," Jane sighed. "I hated to do it. I think, too, she intended to be hateful. I saw it in her face, so I just slid away without giving her a chance. I'm glad that ordeal's over. Now I must find some partners for Ida. The dancing will soon begin."

This proved an easy task. Whatever might be freshman opinion of Jane Allen, she had more friends among the sophomores than she had believed possible. In touch socially with her class for the first time since her return to Wellington, she was amazed at the smiling faces and gay greetings which she met at every turn.

It had a wonderfully cheering effect on her, coming as it did on the heels of the recent freshman demonstration of ill-will. It gave her a thrill of intense happiness. She resolved to put away every vexatious thought and enjoy the frolic with all her might.

That she had successfully put her resolution into effect was evidenced by her bright eyes and laughing lips when, two hours afterward, she and Judith seated themselves on a wicker settee after a one-step which they had danced together for old time's sake.

"I'm having a splendiferous time!" glowed Judith. "You can see for yourself how much that old paper amounted to. Most of these freshmen have been lovely to me. I've steered clear of the ones who looked doubtful. I've had a few scowls handed to me. It's been easy to pick out the ignoble Noble's satellites by their freezing stares. I wonder who escorted our noble little friend? Cousin Marian, no doubt," she added, with her ever-ready chuckle.

"No doubt," was Jane's dry repetition. "Let's go and get some lemonade, Judy," she proposed irrelevantly. "Just watching that crowd around the punch bowl makes me thirsty."

"I'm in need of a few cups of lemonade myself," concurred Judith amiably.

Attempting to rise, an ominous ripping sound informed Jane that Judith had been unconsciously sitting on a fold of the silver tissue overdress to her gown.

"Oh, what a shame! I didn't know I was sitting on your overskirt, Jane. That's too bad!"

Judith hastily got to her feet to ruefully inspect the amount of damage she had done.

"It's nothing," Jane assured lightly. "Let's drink our lemonade and then go over to the dressing room. I can pin this tear so it will stay, I guess. The gathers are only ripped out a little."

Having drunk two cups of lemonade apiece, they strolled on toward the dressing room. It was the little side room the freshman team had used the previous year when playing basket-ball.

Nor were they aware, as they crossed the wide room, arm in arm, that a certain pair of pale blue eyes jealously watched them. As they disappeared through the dressing-room door, Marian Seaton hurried after them, disagreeable purpose written on her face.

Quite oblivious to the fact that she was one of a welcoming committee, she had fully intended to say something cutting to Jane when the latter should arrive that evening in the gymnasium. Having missed one opportunity she did not propose to miss a second. This time Jane Allen should hear what she had to say.

At the slightly opened door she heard words which brought her to an abrupt halt. It was not the first time she had listened at that selfsame door. Edging close, she turned her back to it.

Facing the big room, her pale eyes roved over it with studied carelessness. Her ears, however, were sharply trained to catch the sound of two voices that drifted plainly out to her.

Meanwhile Judith, unaware of listeners, was gayly remarking as she pinned up the tear in Jane's overdress:

"This reminds me of the tear in the white lace dress that caused such a fuss last year. It was a good thing you were around to help Norma out of that mix-up. If it hadn't been for you, Edith Hammond would have gone straight to Mrs. Weatherbee and told her that it was Norma who stole her dress. I must say, Edith acted splendidly about it afterward. I never thought she had it in her to do as she did."

"Things looked pretty black for poor Norma that day until I made things right with Edith," reminisced Jane. "She was determined to make Norma give back her dress when all the while——"

"It was Judy Stearns who had really stolen it," merrily supplemented Judith.

"I'll never forget Edith's face when I told her I was sorry to say that the real thief was Judith Stearns," laughed Jane.

"I was the thief, all right enough, but only a few people knew it. Alas, my fatal failing!" grinned Judith. "There! I guess that will stay. Let's go. I hear the enlivening strains of a fox trot. That means us."

It also meant to the listener outside that her time of eavesdropping was up. Before the two occupants of the dressing room had reached the door Marian Seaton had hurried away from it, her original intention quite forgotten.