“The Orchid Club is most certainly in an enthusiastic state,” Vera Mason remarked tranquilly as she raised her eyes from a bit of difficult Greek prose and listened to the faint, concerted sounds of applause that ascended in waves from behind the closed doors of the living room.

“A regular gale of glee,” Leila spoke with a faint touch of good-humored satire. “What is it that calls for such applause, I wonder?”

“We shall never know.” Vera made a gesture of resigned futility. “Their worthy president has forgotten how much she objected to our demonstrations of joy in 15 last year. They are making a great deal more noise than ever we made.”

“They are welcome to make it. Shut up in the living room, they are at least out of mischief.” Leila promptly forgot the demonstrative assemblage below stairs in the writing of a stirring scene in the “melodramer” she had long promised Robin and Marjorie she should one day write. She had named it “The Fatal Message,” and it abounded in scenes, villains and thrilling situations to a ludicrous extent. The hero’s name was Rupert and the heroine’s Madelene. The greater part of the stage scenery belonging to Leila’s theatrical paraphernalia divided the lovers throughout the play until they met in the palatial drawing room of Madelene’s long-lost millionaire father in the last scene of the fifth act.

As usual Augusta Forbes had been selected for the heroic part of Rupert. Gentleman Gus had acquired great glory as a portrayer of male roles. Because the Hamilton girls loved to see her grace the stage in her golden beauty, Doris Monroe had been selected to play the part of Madelene. In ministerial-appearing Miss Duncan, Leila had also discovered a treasure. Miss Duncan had proved upon acquaintance to be as humorous and jolly as she seemed staid and severe. She had confessed a longing to swank about the stage in male attire and had covered herself with glory as Henry the Fifth in three scenes from the splendid play which had been given at a “Shakesperian Show” managed by Page and Dean.

“Shut up in the living room,” however, the Orchid Club were hardly verifying Leila’s light supposition. A week had passed since Julia Peyton had triumphantly boasted to Clara Carter that she had found the means she had been seeking to drive Leslie Cairns from Wayland Hall. All she and Mildred Ferguson lacked toward starting the ball of injustice rolling was the promised tabulated list from Dulcie Vale.

Dulcie had not seen Leslie since the two girls had been students at Hamilton. She had known herself to be so thoroughly despised by Leslie and the other Sans for her treachery toward them that she had preferred to keep at a distance from them. She had once met and greeted Joan Myers and had received a snubbing which she never forgot. In her heart she had the same old envious dislike for Leslie as in the days on Hamilton campus when she had resented Leslie’s undeniable sway over the Sans.

During the interval of more than two years which had elapsed since the downfall of the San Soucians at Hamilton College, Dulcie Vale had not improved either in wisdom or truth. She had the same lack of regard for the truth as ever. When she had discovered at the Vale’s New Year’s re-union that Mildred Ferguson was a student at Hamilton, and had also learned to her nettled amazement that Leslie Cairns had by some means or other managed to return to Hamilton, she immediately planned mischief. She was as ready to drag Leslie down into the dust of humiliation as ever.

It was with malicious pleasure that she set to work on the tabulated list of Leslie’s misdeeds the day following the re-union. She spent the greater part of three days composing and arranging the list, then mailed it to Mildred with satisfaction. It had arrived in the afternoon mail of the previous day and the Orchid Club had been notified to a member to be on hand at eight o’clock in the living room of the Hall on the next evening.

Julia and Mildred had spent the entire evening previous to that of the meeting in drawing up the fateful petition. Due to Mildred’s selfish ability to steer conveniently clear of snags, the petition was worded so cleverly as to carry the effect of a protest against deep injury reluctantly stated. It began:

“We, the undersigned do hereby make plea for a condition of affairs at Wayland Hall which shall be in entire harmony with the ideals and traditions of Hamilton College.”

Followed in “the interests of truth and honor” a dignified protest against Leslie Cairns’ presence at the Hall. The petition ended with the crafty assurance that three representatives from among the objectors were prepared to state in private conference with Miss Remson their objections to Leslie Cairns as a resident of Wayland Hall.

While Julia Peyton had a known grievance against Leslie, Mildred also had one, though it was less tangible. She had shrewdly estimated Leslie at sight as a person of some consequence. She had accordingly decided to cultivate Leslie’s acquaintance. She had met with a peculiar kind of defeat. She had all of a sudden understood that Leslie understood her. She sensed as clearly as though it had been said to her that Leslie had quickly plumbed her soul and discovered her ignoble motive for making friendly advances. On this very account she felt aggressive toward Leslie, as is the way with persons of small nature. She was quite content with Julia’s determination to shame Leslie.

Mildred had chosen to read out Dulcie Vale’s list to the members of the club. This to Julia’s only half concealed disappointment. She had allotted the reading of the petition to Julia, who had accepted the minor honor somewhat distantly. The reading of the petition evoked far more applause than did Dulcie’s letter, which was gratifying to Julia. She took the credit for its composition though Mildred had dictated its policy.

As a matter of fact the members of the Orchid Club were rather horrified at the list of offenses Dulcie had tabulated against Leslie. The psychological effect produced upon the company by the reading of the list was decidedly unpleasant. They were a thoughtless, pleasure-loving group of girls with undoubted snobbish tendencies. They were not in any sense embued with the spirit of lawlessness which had brought the Sans to grief. Nevertheless the list served its purpose to the extent that the majority of the club were in instant favor of presenting the petition to Miss Remson.

There were a few faint-hearted objections to the proposal from four or five girls who presented the arguments that Miss Cairns had powerful friends at the Hall in the post graduates, that Miss Remson would fight for Leslie and that Prexy might be a good friend of Miss Cairns’ father. These arguments were energetically swept aside by Julia and Mildred, who made mysterious promises to take the matter “higher” with the surety of receiving justice from the College Board should both Miss Remson and Prexy prove partial.

“In the face of all Miss Cairns has done against the traditions and rules of Hamilton it would be nothing but partiality for President Matthews to refuse to honor our petition.” Julia had risen to argue as eloquently against Leslie as a district attorney might have against a murderer. “If he should do this then we must come out boldly and accuse him of partiality. We shall have our parents write letters of protest to him, and to the Board.”

While her hearers were not altogether satisfied with her arguments neither were they pleased to have Leslie at the Hall. They had the innate tendency of well-bred girls toward the keeping of honorable company which in other circumstances might have been commendable.

It was Mildred, however, who put the final touch to Julia’s harangue. “Oh, what is the use of being afraid to sign that petition?” she demanded, her blue eyes laughing scorn at her clubmates. It was the one thing needed to decide them against Leslie. “What harm can it do you? Haven’t you a right to the courage of your convictions? You can’t be executed, you know, for signing. Incidentally we may win. Think it over, then start at the left and come up to the table and sign. But take your chairs again. We have other business to transact before the close of the meeting.”

Leslie, coming in later from a little expedition of her own, encountered the chattering throng of girls as it poured into the hall from the living room. In crossing the hall to the stairs she was curiously aware of a stir among the chatterers which she could not but lay to her appearance among them. She bade the students nearest to her a reserved good evening and hurried on up the stairs feeling vexed with herself for the odd premonition which had flashed through her mind of the approach of something disagreeable. She shook off the feeling, impatiently attributing it to the constant expectation of being harshly criticised which she unwillingly harbored.

Since the beginning of her senior year Leslie had quietly interested herself in the poor of the town of Hamilton. Her program of only two subjects gave her ample time to look about her. She had more money than she could possibly spend. She no longer cared about spending it like water for fancied costly luxuries. Her idea of charity consisted in buying a car full of groceries and necessities, then driving around among the needy families in the lower part of the town and making them happy. She never stopped to inquire whether they were worthy. She simply gave as her sympathies directed. Already she had planned, that, when she and Peter the Great should come to live at Carden Hedge, she would ask him to establish some sort of industry in South Hamilton which should provide work for the poor there at a living wage.

The day following the meeting Leslie came to a grim conclusion that “something must be stirring” against her among her housemates. It was the first time since her advent at the Hall that she had noticed anything so general as the peculiarly disapproving aloofness which showed itself among the tables full of girls as she went into the dining room to breakfast. By night she had become convinced of her suspicion. She set her jaws and brought an intrepid spirit to bear upon the threatening situation. Whatever it might be she would not go whining with it to Miss Remson. She would not run out to meet calamity, either. But, if calamity came, she would walk bravely out to meet it, alone.