From the moment Doris Monroe had realized that she might become a figure of importance on the campus her attitude toward college had changed. In the summer she had scornfully regarded the campus as a “ghastly old space.” Since the return to it of scores of smart, butterfly girls who owned cars and who made amusement a business during their recreation hours she had entirely altered her opinion.

Because she had chosen to be “miffed” at the Travelers during their summer stay at the Hall she still clung stubbornly to her groundless grudge against them. Then, too, Leslie Cairns had warned her against them. Leslie was a person for whom Doris had a certain amount of respect. Leslie had wealth in her own right and appeared to be afraid of no one. She had taken Doris for several rides in the white roadster and lunched and dined her expensively at exclusive wayside inns and tea rooms. When Leslie had returned to New York, shortly after Marjorie had returned to Sanford, Doris had missed her new acquaintance.

She was pleasantly surprised during the week following the sophomore election to find a note in the Hall bulletin board from Leslie Cairns. It read:

“How are you?” was Leslie’s nonchalant greeting of the sophomore when Doris arrived in the gathering October dusk at the rendezvous. She leaned out of the small black car she was driving and extended a careless hand to Doris. “Hop in,” she invited. “We’re off to Breton Hill for dinner. I’m going to zip this road wagon along when I clear Hamilton Estates.”

“I’m so glad to see you again, Leslie,” Doris said with more warmth than she usually exhibited.

“So you’ve come to life.” Leslie grinned to herself as she started the car. “I had an idea you would. What’s new at the knowledge shop?” There was a veiled eagerness in her question. Leslie cared far more about what went on at Hamilton than she pretended. “Tell me anything and everything you can think of.”

“Things have livened immensely. I passed my soph exams and I was nominated for the soph presidency.” Doris went on with a somewhat lofty account of the sophomore election and her sudden rise in campus popularity. “You ought to see the way the girls stare at me when I am out on the campus,” she declared with enthusiasm. “I have some freshie crushes as well as sophs and some of the juniors and seniors are sweet to me. It’s because I’m so beautiful,” she added with cool assurance.

“Yes, you are a beauty,” Leslie admitted half enviously. “Do you think you have half the college going?”

“Mercy no!” Doris truthfully exclaimed. “I might have, I think, if I could afford to entertain in a very exclusive expensive way. That’s what counts. I have plenty of lovely clothes, but my father doesn’t believe in giving me a large allowance. He would be awfully angry if he knew that I took half a room instead of the single he applied for for me. I did it so as to have that much more spending money. I wish now I hadn’t. My roommate is Miss Harding, one of those horrid Sanford P. G.’s. She is snippy and so cheeky. A lot of the sophs are down on her and her crowd for boosting that stupid Miss Forbes for president.”

“That was a favorite trick of Bean and her Beanstalks when I was at Hamilton,” informed Leslie. She was regarding Doris’s pretty discontented features as though revolving some plan in the dark recesses of her scheming mind.

“It seems to be a favorite trick still,” replied Doris venomously. “I understand that Bean, as you call her, is trying to run the sports committee, take sides with one half the sophs and lecture the other half as to what they should do. She and that Miss Harper planned the election parade for Miss Forbes’ crowd. I heard that the sophs who were trying to boost me asked her to help them get up a parade and she refused to help them.”

“You sophs are foolish to stand such treatment.” Leslie busied herself with the wheel as though offering casual opinion.

“What can we do?” demanded Doris fiercely. “It’s hardly my place to start a fuss. I have a certain reputation as a beauty to keep up on the campus.”

“Yes, that’s so. You’re clever enough to see it. Let me see.” Leslie wrinkled her rugged features in intense concentration of thought. She was very desirous of hatching a plan of malicious action. It could hardly be traced to her, if carried out, she was reflecting comfortably.

“What the sophs should do is this,” she said at length. “They should write two letters; both to Bean. One should be from the sophs themselves, calling Bean down for interfering with their interests and ordering her thereafter to mind her own affairs. The other—” Leslie hesitated. She wondered how much “Monroe would stand for.” She continued, “The other should be from the seniors with a more polite intimation that they are capable of managing college sports without P. G. help.”

“Oh, such letters couldn’t be sent,” vigorously disagreed Doris. “I wouldn’t dare suggest any such thing to my soph crushes. As for the seniors—that would be hopeless!”

“All right. Forget it, and listen to me,” Leslie ordered rather gruffly. “There’s one thing I can do for you to help you with the popularity business. I’m going to lend you my white roadster. I haven’t used it since I was here in the summer. It’s in a Hamilton garage now. I’ll pay for the up-keep of it a year in advance and run it up to the nearest garage to the campus. My garage will be ready by next spring, I hope. I’ll blow you to a stunning white sports coat and other togs to match the ‘Dazzler.’ I’ll open an account for you at the Hamilton Trust Company so you can entertain. I’ll—”

“But, why—why should you do all this for me?” Doris cried wonderingly, stirred out of her usual high self-complacency. “I couldn’t really accept so much from you, Leslie. You see—” her tones betrayed her reluctance to refuse Leslie’s magnificently generous offer.

“Because I chose to do it. What’s money to me? I’ll help you make yourself the campus beauty and bring back the good old days on the campus when money counted for something. Bean and that set of mush heads have turned Hamilton into a regular goody-goody shop. The sophs who rooted for you have the right idea. I’m going to be around here all winter so I can tell you a few tricks you’ll need to know.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know,” Doris repeated, as Leslie continued to put forward her offer. “My father has always said for me never to incur obligations. There’s nothing I could do for you in return, Leslie, that would count for anything like what you’d be doing for me.” She sighed enviously as she pictured herself in the white car.

“Yes, there are certain things you can do for me, later, when you’ve secured your own position on the campus.” Leslie had been driving slowly as she talked. Now she stopped the car at the side of the road. “You can help me make matters uncomfortable for Bean and her crowd. You can—”

“I’m willing to do what I can, in my own way,” Doris responded with a zest which betrayed her own rancor. “You can see for yourself, though, Leslie, that I couldn’t do a thing such as you proposed about those letters.”

Leslie laughed, silently, grotesquely. Doris could surely be trusted to look out for her own interests. “I said ‘forget it’ didn’t I?” she reminded. Her tones, however, contained no mirth. She was inwardly scornful of Doris for her selfishness. Leslie had not the least intention of “forgetting,” though Doris might.