“I—are you alone, Miss Dean? I would like to talk with you, but not unless you are alone.” Dulcie spoke just above a whisper, peering past Marjorie into the room so far as she could see from where she was standing.

“Yes, I am alone. Miss Macy will not be back for an hour, perhaps. Will you come in, Miss Vale?” Marjorie endeavored to make the invitation courteous. She could not feign cordiality.

“I am glad you are alone.” This idea seemed uppermost in Dulcie’s mind. “I know you don’t like me, Miss Dean. You haven’t any reason to after the way you were treated by the Sans last Saint Valentine’s night. Of course, I know you know who we were that night.” She paused, as though considering what to say next.

“I saw no faces, but I knew Miss Cairns’ and Miss Weyman’s voices,” Marjorie said with a suspicion of stiffness. She was not pleased to hear Dulcie preface her remarks with implied aspersions against the Sans. She knew that the latter had quarreled with her. She guessed that pique might have actuated the call.

“You never told anyone a single thing about it, did you?” The question was close to wistful. It seemed remarkable to Dulcie that Marjorie could have kept the matter secret.

“No.” Marjorie shook her head slightly.

“Did your friends ever say a word about it? Those were your friends who burst in on us and made such a noise, weren’t they? Who was the one who looked so horrible and blew out the candles?” Dulcie seemed suddenly to give over to curiosity.

“I can’t answer your questions, Miss Vale.” Marjorie could not repress the tiny smile that would not stay in seclusion. “I wish you would sit down and tell me frankly why you came to see me. You have not been in my room since the night of my arrival at Wayland Hall as a freshman.”

“I know.” Dulcie’s gaze shifted uneasily from Marjorie’s face. “I thought I would come again,” she excused, “but——”

The steadiness of Marjorie’s eyes forbade further untruth. She became suddenly silent. Very humbly she accepted the chair her puzzled hostess shoved forward. Marjorie sat down in one at the other side of the center table.

“I suppose you’ve heard all about my trouble with the Sans,” the visitor commenced afresh and awkwardly. “I don’t belong to the Sans Soucians now. I wouldn’t stay in a club with such dishonorable girls. I simply made Leslie Cairns accept my resignation. She was wild about it.”

Now safely launched upon her story, Dulcie began to gather up her self-confidence. “You see, my father, who is president of the L. T. and M. Railroad, has done a great deal for the Sans. You know we have always come to Hamilton in the fall in his private car. I have lent the Sans money and done them endless favors, yet they couldn’t be even moderately square with me.” She fixed her eyes on Marjorie after this outburst as though waiting for sympathy.

“I have heard nothing in regard to your having left the Sans Soucians. I have noticed that you were no longer at the table where you formerly sat at meals.” Marjorie could not honestly concede less than this.

“Didn’t you hear us fussing one night in Leslie’s room? It was before Christmas. That was the night I called them all down. I was so angry! I went into a perfect frenzy! I’m so temperamental! When I am really in a rage it simply shakes me from head to foot.” There was a faint impetus toward complacency in the statement.

“Yes; I heard a commotion going on up there one evening, but only faintly. My door was closed. I didn’t pay any attention to the noise, for it did not concern me.” Marjorie was struggling against an irresistible desire to laugh. To her mind Dulcie was the last person she would have classed as temperamental.

“The rest of that crowd were just as noisy as I, but Leslie Cairns blamed me for it all. She told Miss Remson it was I alone who made the disturbance. I’ll never forgive her; never. What I thought was this, Miss Dean. The Sans deserve to be punished for hazing you. I was a victim, too, that night. They made me go along with them, and I didn’t wish to go. I came home with my eye blackened. I won’t say how it happened, only that Leslie Cairns was to blame. I know about the whole plan for the hazing. Leslie rented that house for six months and paid the rent in advance so as to have a good place to take you. She would have left you there all night but Nell Ray and I said we would not stand for that. We were the only ones who stood up for you. Leslie Cairns was the Red Mask.

“You know that Doctor Matthews is awfully down on hazing,” Dulcie continued, taking a fresh supply of breath. “I thought if you would go with me to his office we could put the case before him. So long as I have all the facts of that affair and you and I were the ones hazed, he would certainly expel those Sans from Hamilton. You could say, just to clear me, that you knew I was hazed, too. That is, I was forced to go with them against my will. You see I had said I wouldn’t have a thing to do with it. I put on a domino that night over my costume and started across the campus by myself. Half a dozen of the Sans headed me off and simply dragged me along with them. I couldn’t get away from them, either. If that wasn’t hazing, then what was it?”

Marjorie was sorely tempted to reply, “Nothing but a yarn.” She did not credit Dulcie’s story and was growing momentarily more disgusted with the author of it.

“I can get away with it nicely if you will help me.” Dulcie evidently took Marjorie’s silence as favorable to her plan. “I’ve resigned from the Sans of my own accord. That will be in my favor. Matthews doesn’t like Leslie. You know she received a summons after Miss Langly was hurt. Maybe the doctor didn’t call her down! With you on my side. Oh, fine! I can see the Sans packing to leave Hamilton in a hurry!” Dulcie brightened visibly at the dire picture her mind had painted of her enemies’ disaster. “I can tell you a lot more things against them, too. Leslie is afraid all the time that Miss Remson will find out how she worked that stunt to keep us our rooms here. She——”

Marjorie interrupted with a quick, stern: “Stop, Miss Vale! I don’t wish to hear such things. I listened to what you said about the hazing as that concerned myself only. I have no desire to know the Sans’ private affairs. Whatever they may have done that is against the rules and traditions of Hamilton they will have to answer for. In the long run they will not be happy. I would not inform against them to President Matthews or anyone else.”

“Would you let them go on and be graduated after what they have done against both of us?” demanded Dulcie, her voice rising.

“It has not hurt me; being hazed, I mean,” was the calm reply. “I do not approve of hazing. I would not take part in any such disgraceful thing. Still, I do not believe in tale-bearing. You will gain more, Miss Vale, by going on as though all that has annoyed and hurt you had never been. Whoever has wronged you will be punished, eventually. The higher law, the law of compensation, provides for that.”

“I don’t know a thing about law. I wouldn’t care to take the matter into court.” Marjorie’s little preachment had gone entirely over the stupid senior’s head. Leslie had often remarked, and with truth, that Dulc was “thick.”

“I mean by the higher law, ‘As ye mete it out to others, so shall it be measured back to you again,’” Marjorie quoted with reverence.

“Oh, I see. You mean what the Bible says. Uh-huh! That’s true, I guess.” Dulcie looked vague. “I’m sorry you won’t help me, Miss Dean. I feel that Doctor Matthews ought to know what’s going on, when it is as serious as hazing.”

Marjorie felt her patience winging away. She wished Jerry would suddenly return and thus end the interview. It was evident Dulcie intended to report the hazing, despite her refusal to become a party to the report. That meant she would be dragged into the affair.

“I wish you would not go to Doctor Matthews about the hazing, Miss Vale,” she said abruptly. “If I, who was put to more inconvenience than you by it, have never reported it, I see no reason why you should. If you should succeed in having your former chums expelled you would feel miserably afterward for having betrayed them, no matter how much they might have deserved it.”

“I surely should not.” Dulcie’s short upper lip lifted in scorn. “I would love to see them disgraced. They tried to down me. I have a splendid case against them because you are so well-liked on the campus. The use of your name will be of great help. Sorry you won’t stand by me. You’ll have to admit the truth if you are sent for at the office,” she ended as a triumphant afterthought.

Marjorie contemplated her visitor in some wonder. The small, mean soul of the vengeful girl stood forth in the smile that accompanied her threatening utterance. It seemed strange to the upright lieutenant that a young woman with every material advantage in life could be so devoid of principle.

“Do not count on me.” Marjorie’s reply rang out with deliberate contempt. “If I were to be summoned to Doctor Matthews’ office concerning the hazing, I would answer no questions and give no information.”

This time it was Dulcie who lost patience. She rose with an angry flounce. Sulkiness at being thus thwarted replaced her earlier attempt at amenability.

“I might have known better than ask you,” she sputtered, giving free rein to her displeasure. “I shall do just as I please about going to Matthews. I hope he sends for you. He will make you admit you were hazed by the Sans. Goodnight.” She switched to the door. Her hand on the knob, she called over one shoulder: “I don’t blame Les for having named you ‘Bean.’ You are just about as stupid as one.”