In the lavatory she encountered the two students of whom Ronny had made inquiry regarding Baretti’s. The black-haired girl looked at her, then nodded pleasantly. Marjorie returned the salutation with a half-shy smile which the square-chinned, sandy-haired girl shrewdly noted. Regarding Marjorie intently for an instant, very deliberately she stretched forth a hand.

“Good morning,” she said, in a rather deep voice for a girl. “Did you have any trouble finding Baretti’s?”

“Not a bit, thank you.” This time Marjorie’s smile broke forth in all its sunny beauty. “We might have lost our way if we had not met you. We saw some girls in the rustic house as we left the Hall, but we met no others. If we had tried to find it ourselves, and turned to the left instead of the right, I don’t know where we would have landed.”

“Not anywhere near food; I can tell you that.” It was the tall girl’s turn to smile. Marjorie liked her instantly. She admired her capable chin and direct, honest expression. “You would have gone rambling along toward the Hamilton Estates.”

“We saw them yesterday as we drove to the college from the station. They are so artistically laid out. I am anxious to see Hamilton Arms. I have been interested in what the bulletin says of Brooke Hamilton. We loved Baretti’s. It must have been an inn, long ago. That is what we thought.”

“It was,” answered the brunette. She now offered her hand. “It used to be called ‘Comfort Inn.’ You and your friends are freshmen, I know. Miss Remson told us that there were to be five freshmen from the same town at the Hall this year. You see the Hall was fairly well filled last June with prospective sophs and a few juniors and seniors. I think only two other freshmen besides yourselves were able to get in here, this year. We mustn’t keep you standing here. I am Martha Merrick, and this is my pal, Rosalind Black. We are sophomores. We are not so very much inflated over our high estate. You may look at us, of course, and even speak to us.”

“I will try not to overstep bounds,” Marjorie promised. “I am Marjorie Dean, and I am glad to meet you. I haven’t yet learned a freshman’s prerogatives. I must rely upon my high and mighty sophomore sisters to enlighten me.”

“We will, never fear. You may expect to see us in your room before long; perhaps this evening, if you are not busy.”

“You will be welcome. We have nothing special to do this evening. We shall look forward to seeing you, and treat you with proper respect, you may be sure.”

All three laughed merrily at Marjorie’s assurance. The two sophomores then left her to her morning ablutions.

“‘The sweetest flower that grows’” sang Martha Merrick softly, the minute the door closed between them and Marjorie.

“Isn’t she, though,” quietly agreed her companion. “She isn’t a snob, Martha. She has gentle manners.”

“Oh, I know it! What a relief to see a beauty who isn’t wrapped up in herself. Did you ever see anything more gorgeous than that head of brown curls. If I wished to be further poetical I could quote numerous lines that would apply to her.”

“She is lovely enough to inspire them, but she is more than that. She is a very fine girl. Depend upon it, Martha, her friends are worth knowing or they wouldn’t be her friends. That’s the way I read our stunning freshie. I hope I am right. A few staunch democratics besides ourselves and Nella and Leila are needed here to offset Millionaire Row.”

Meanwhile Marjorie was luxuriating in her morning scrub, a happy little smile playing about her lips. It was so cheering to meet friendliness at last. Miss Merrick and Miss Black were far more according to her college ideals. Before she had completed her toilet several girls dropped into the lavatory. Long before this, her curls had been fastened up, close to her head. Nevertheless the strangers stared more or less politely at her. Two of them she thought she recognized as among the four she had seen at Baretti’s.

About to leave the lavatory, one of the towels on her arm slid to the floor as she essayed to open the door. Some one behind her recovered it and handed it to her. Turning to thank the doer of the courtesy, she caught a flash of white teeth and the steady regard of two bright blue eyes. This was Marjorie’s first impression of Leila Harper.

“I am ever so much obliged to you,” she said.

“You are welcome.” The other girl betrayed no special interest in Marjorie. Nevertheless Leila Harper was interested to the point of deliberately endeavoring to draw her into conversation. About to turn away, Leila spoke again. “I believe I saw you last night at Baretti’s.”

“I thought I recognized you as one of the students who sat at a table on the right,” Marjorie instantly replied. Not a word more did she volunteer. Instinctively she recognized a difference in the stranger’s manner from that of the two students with whom she had recently talked.

“Baretti’s is a quaint old place, is it not?” remarked the other, a shade more cordially.

“We admired it. We were too late for dinner at the Hall last night, so we were directed there.” Marjorie could not bring herself to be too casual.

“It’s a good place to eat when you have a brand new check from home in your pocket. Toward the last of the month I am generally to be found at the Hall at meal-time.” Her blue eyes twinkled in true Irish fashion and her white teeth again flashed into evidence.

“I suppose it will be the same with me before I have been here long. At home my chums and I used to part with our pocket money at a tea-room called Sargent’s. Now we shall undoubtedly do our best to make Baretti rich.”

“Where do you come from?” The question was asked with abrupt directness.

Marjorie answered in quietly even tones, adding a few more explanatory sentences concerning herself and chums. It had occurred to her that this latest acquaintance had engaged in conversation with her for a purpose of her own. Realizing that time was on the wing, and Jerry probably impatient at her non-return, she excused herself and pattered down the hall to her room.

“I thought you would never come back,” greeted Jerry. “Have you seen the girls?”

“No; not one of them. I met those two girls who directed us to Baretti’s last night. They are sophomores. I like them. Miss Remson mentioned us to them.

“Now I told you Busy Buzzy was on the job all the time. She ought to be our press agent. Only we don’t need one. True worth will always be discovered, sooner or later. Who else knows our home town and past history as given out by our little Buzz-about?”

“No one else, so far as I know.” Marjorie was forced to smile at Jerry’s nonsense. She did not altogether approve of Busy Buzzy and Buzz-about as names for the odd little manager. She doubted if Miss Remson would hail either with joy. “I met another girl, too. One of those we saw at Baretti’s last night.” Marjorie briefly described her and the circumstances of the meeting.

“Yes; I remember her. I took a good look at those four. They were watching us, too. They were very clever about it, though.”

Marjorie said nothing for a little. Engaged with her hair at the dressing table, a decided frown shadowed her forehead.

“What’s the matter?” Seated where she could see her chum’s face in the mirror, Jerry had instantly noted the shadow.

“Oh, nothing much. It seemed to me this girl didn’t care about being friendly. She acted more as if she were trying to find out what sort of person I was. It wasn’t what she said to me, but her manner that made me think it. I felt toward her as I might have toward a stranger I had chanced to meet somewhere in public and exchanged courtesies with.”

“She was probably trying to find out your principles and so forth. She may be either a snob or a snob-hater. It wouldn’t surprise me if that were the main issue here,” was Jerry’s shrewd guess. “In either case she would be anxious to know how to class you. According to Miss Archer’s friend, Miss Hutchison, the snob proposition has become a grand nuisance here. Who knows? Before long we may be taking part in a regular fight against ‘our crowd.’ Maybe both sides are looking for freshman recruits.”

“Well, if it’s a fight based on money, you and Ronny are eligible to ‘our crowd,’” retorted Marjorie mischievously. “The rest of us can’t qualify.”

“It’s a good thing,” Jerry said sarcastically. “Any time you catch me toddling along with that foolish aggregation you may discard me forever.”

The measured raps on the door turned the attention of both girls to it. Jerry answered it, admitting Muriel.

“Top of the morning,” she saluted. “Ready to go down to breakfast? Have you seen Ronny and Lucy yet?”

“I am ready and Marjorie soon will be. No; the girls haven’t appeared. We have loads of time for breakfast this morning. No danger of getting left.”

Muriel at once began to recount her meeting in the lavatory with two freshmen. She was in the midst of it when more rapping announced Ronny and Lucy.

“I was afraid you had gone down stairs,” were Ronny’s first words. “I slept until the last minute as usual. Lucy was up long before me. She set off for the lavatory, bold as you please. When she opened the door and saw half a dozen strangers, she took fright and hustled back to our room. Then she sat around like a goose until I woke up.”

Lucy merely smiled a little at this exposÉ. “I needed Ronny’s moral support,” she said whimsically. “Afterward I was sorry I didn’t brave it out. The second time the lavatory held twice as many girls.”

“We landed in the middle of ‘our crowd,’” reported Veronica, looking extremely bored. “They paid no attention to us, for which I was duly thankful. Like myself, I suppose they hate to get up early. I didn’t mind it at home, for I can take my time. I often get up at five o’clock when Father and I are going for a long ride over the ranch. But to rise early, then have to hurry!” Ronny made a gesture eloquent of disfavor.

“Miss Weyman said there were eighteen girls in their sorority,” interposed Jerry. “I wonder how many of them room in this house?”

“A dozen at least; perhaps the whole eighteen,” replied Ronny. “There were eight or nine of them in the lavatory. I heard them asking where Florence and Lita were, so I daresay they are among the elect. Miss Weyman wasn’t there nor Miss Cairns. I saw and heard Miss Vale, she was talking at the top of her lungs.”

“Did that Miss Vale speak to you?” Jerry questioned abruptly.

“I happened to catch her eye and she gave me a wee little nod and a sickly smile,” Ronny answered, in satirical amusement.

“Marjorie and I have an inkling that there are two factions at the Hall. If that’s the case—Good-bye to a peaceful college life,” predicted Jerry. “While we may think we can keep clear of both factions, we can never do it. Mark my words, within six weeks from now we’ll be all out of patience with ‘our crowd.’ Then look out for fireworks.”