It took the school, and particularly the old wing, several weeks to recover from the result of the contest. Janet, much to her surprise, remained a heroine, and was not forgotten after the flush of the first few days, but she was not happy.

Phyllis, after her failure on Archery Day, had steadfastedly refused to have anything more to do with the sport, and half the pleasure of the prospect of making the team was gone, when Janet realized that Phyllis would not be with her. Daphne, too, refused to show any interest, and it was Sally that Janet spent most of her time with, practicing before the target.

They were coming up from the lawn this afternoon. The warm days of late summer had chilled with the coming of Autumn, and in the late afternoon the girls found sweaters comfortable.

When they reached the lower hall they met Ethel Rivers. She was still incorrigible on the subject of the wings.

“I hope you know, that even if you did beat us at Archery, we’re going to win out in Dramatics.”

“Win in anything your little heart wants,” Sally laughed; “the old wing is never selfish.”

“Well, you just wait and see,” Ethel began angrily, but she turned suddenly to Janet and stopped. “I’ve—I’ve—wanted to congratulate you for a long time,” she said shyly. She was the same age as the two girls before her, but a class below. She was feeling the difference acutely.

“Thanks awfully,” Janet was almost as embarrassed as she was. She was trying hard not to feel her position as a future member of the team, but it was difficult when girls like Ethel forgot their feeling of animosity long enough to offer congratulations.

Without realizing it Janet mounted the pedestal of a personage.

“I—I—really thought you were wonderful,” Ethel continued grudgingly, “and I’m not a bit sorry, really, that you beat our twins.”

“That’s awfully decent of you Ethel. I’m glad to see you’re coming around to the right way of thinking. Mustn’t take the rivalry of the wings too seriously, you know. Come down to target practice some day, while I’m there, and I’ll show you how to fix your arrow. I saw you were having trouble with it.” And Janet walked up the broad stairs, her head held high, as a queen might have walked on after she had spoken to her humble courtier.

But when they reached Sally’s room and she threw herself down on the bed, her face suddenly fell.

“Sally,” she said seriously. “I think Phyl is a little hurt that I spend so much time away from her. She’s going to hate it if I make the team, so I think, if I am elected, I’ll refuse.”

Sally whistled then she looked seriously at Janet.

“You are going to do nothing of the kind, if I can help it,” she said emphatically, “but we won’t talk about it now. Let’s go find Phyl and Taffy.”

They went over to the Twin’s room, but there was no sign of them.

“Maybe Glad’ll know where they are,” Sally suggested.

But they found Prue and Ann and Gladys cheerfully munching crackers and peanut butter, as they studied their English for the next day.

“Come and join us,” Ann invited shoving forward the peanut butter. “We’ve got a marvelous system. Prue reads aloud to us and then we discuss it.”

“You might as well join us,” Gladys suggested. “We’ve only just started.”

“We’re looking for Daphne and Phil,” Sally replied.

“Oh, you won’t find them,” Gladys told her. “They’re down in the Senior’s Retreat.”

“What under the sun are they doing down there?” Janet demanded.

“Dramatic Club,” Prue said solemnly. “Shakespeare meeting and all that sort of thing.”

Sally and Janet looked at each other in bewilderment. “How did they get down there? They aren’t Juniors or Seniors,” Sally protested.

“Can’t help it, Miss Slocum sent their names in to Poppy as shining lights in literature,” Ann replied. “And Poppy, of course, was tickled to death.”

“So was Helen Jenkins, by the way,” Prue added. “She’s really the brains of the club, while Poppy’s the looks.”

“And they’re both Old Wing Girls,” Gladys exulted. “Just imagine how they feel at the idea of letting in two Sophomores!

“But it’s unheard of,” Sally objected, “don’t you have to be a Junior at least, before you’re eligible?”

“’Tisn’t a rule, it’s simply a custom,” Ann told her. “It just never happened before, that the Sophomores showed very much brains.”

“But, oh my beloved hearers!” Gladys exclaimed excitedly, “can’t you see that our Phyllis and our Taffy may be the brilliant exceptions?”

Janet had looked wonderingly from one to the other of the girls.

“You don’t mean Phil and Taffy could possibly make the Dramatic Club?” she asked at length.

“But I exactly do mean just that,” Gladys informed her. “And, oh my Aunt Jane’s Poll-parrot, if they should, think what a victory it would be for the Old Wing!”

Prue picked up the book that she had been reading when Sally and Janet interrupted her.

“I refuse to think of it,” she said with decision. “Come on, girls, sit down and make yourselves comfy, and in my most dulcet tones I will read to you the lesson in Guy Mannering for tomorrow.”

Janet and Sally curled up on the end of the Countess’s bed and Prue began.

It is a question whether any of the girls kept their mind on the book. The Dramatic Club at Hilltop was a very important institution of school life. There were hardly ever more than twelve members, and they were chosen for a variety of reasons. The principal one was an understanding and appreciation of literature, but equally important were good looks and an ability to act, for the Dramatic Club gave two plays a year. They were not the usual amateur performances, for wise Miss Slocum, with the aid of the Seniors, chose her material carefully and trained it exceedingly well.

She had hesitated a long time before suggesting two Sophomores for possible membership, but Daphne’s bewildering beauty and Phyllis’s apt reading of lines finally persuaded her.

The Juniors and Seniors had accepted this innovation of an old custom with surprise, but, as Poppy had explained, it would not be necessary to make a decision at once, for the Dramatic Club was never chosen until just before the Christmas holidays.

The girls who were interested met in the Senior Retreat twice a week and read plays of their own or Miss Slocum’s selection. The meeting was over at six o’clock.

Daphne and Phyllis hurried to the latter’s room as quickly as possible.

“Taffy, was there ever such luck?” Phyllis exclaimed, “wasn’t it adorable of them to let us be there!”

“Indeed it was,” Daphne agreed heartily. “And we’re only new girls, too, and that makes it all the nicer. But, Phil, what do you suppose they really mean?”

Phyllis shook her head and her brows puckered in a puzzled frown.

“I wish I knew, Taffy,” she replied slowly. “When I went in, Poppy squeezed my arm and Helen Jenkins asked me how I liked the Dramatic Club pin.”

“And when you said you loved it, she asked you how you would like to wear one,” Daphne finished for her. “I know, I heard it, and my heart just flopped right over.”

Phyllis walked to the balcony and stood looking out over the lawn.

“Isn’t it funny the way people get jumbled up,” she said musingly. “We four haven’t paired off as we ought to. It almost looks as if we had changed partners. Just look at this afternoon. Jan and Sally were practicing with their ever-lasting bows and arrows, and you and I were sitting in all our glory in the midst of the Dramatic Club.”

“That’s what makes us such bully good friends,” Daphne explained. “It doesn’t matter which two of our four are together, they are bound to have a good time, and the very best times of all are when we are not paired off, but doing something that we can all enjoy.”

Phyllis nodded. “I used to think, at Miss Harding’s that we weren’t so very remarkable, and that if we got away to boarding school we’d find plenty of friendships as strong as ours——”

“What nonsense!” Daphne interrupted, drawling the words until they held a wealth of scorn. “Prue and Gladys and Ann are a wonderful combination but they’re not nearly as wonderful as we are,” she added with her queer little laugh.

They both picked up books and pretended to study.

“Taffy,” Phyllis said suddenly, “it really isn’t fair.” There was a little catch in her voice.

Daphne looked up from her copy of Guy Mannering. “What isn’t?” she inquired.

“My being chosen, when Janet’s left out. She knows twice as much about books as I do. Why she knew every book in The Enchanted Kingdom, and she can quote poetry by the yard.”

“But she can’t recite it the way you do,” Daphne protested. “You read Rosalind’s lines in As You Like It when we had it in class, until I honestly thought I was in the Forest of Arden. I agree with you that Jan loves it and appreciates it as much as you, but she reads it as though she hated to have to share it with anybody else.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Phyllis sounded only half convinced. “But I’ll tell you this, if Jan isn’t elected to the Dramatic Club, I won’t join even if they ask me.”

“Oh, yes you will,” Daphne drawled. Her words were almost an echo of Sally’s used earlier in the day under a similar circumstance.