Marjorie Dean, College Sophomore | Page 4

told her it would not make any difference to me if they stayed at the Hall. I did not believe it would make any to the rest of the girls. None of us had spoken to them since the meeting in the living room. None of us were in the least afraid of them. We had as much right to be at the Hall as they. She finally promised to leave me out of it entirely, but she intended to make complaint against them on her own account."
"Then they will soon be here, lug and luggage," predicted Leila with a groan. "It is the way they treated you that would have counted against them. Our president is a stickler for honor. He might readily expel them for that very performance."
"That is what I was afraid of. I should not wish a student expelled from Hamilton on my account. It was hard enough to have to call them to account, as we did last March."
"They have had all summer to get over the shock. They'll be planning new trouble this fall." Leila spoke with the confidence of belief. "Leslie Cairns never gives up. Are you ready to fight them again, Beauty?" Leila eyed Marjorie quizzically. She asked the question in the odd, level tone she had used on first acquaintance with Marjorie.
"I think this: Our best way to fight the Sans is by influence. Their influence, founded as it is on money values, is not beneficial to Hamilton College. Ours should be founded strictly on observing the traditions of Hamilton. We must make other students see that, too. We can't lecture on the subject, of course. It will have to be a silent struggle for nobler aims. I hardly know how to explain my meaning. I only wish everyone else here had the same feeling of reverence for Hamilton that I have."
Marjorie paused, quite at a loss to put into words all that was in her heart. As they talked, the roadster had been spinning rapidly along through Hamilton Estates. Suddenly the campus, of living velvety green, appeared upon their view. The old, potent spell of its beauty gripped the little lieutenant afresh. She had a desire to rise in the seat and shout a welcome to her first Hamilton friend. A verse of a forest hymn she had learned as a child in the grade schools sprang to her memory. It was so well suited to the campus.
"I've always loved the campus, Leila," she began. "I call it my first friend and the chimes my second. Those two things meant the most to me when first we came to Hamilton and felt so out of the college picture. Just now I happened to recall a verse of a song we used to sing in school. It is a hymn to the forest, but it describes Hamilton campus and all the college itself should stand for." Marjorie repeated the verse, her eyes on the rolling emerald spread:
"Who rightly scans thy beauty, a world of truth must read; Of life and hope and duty; our help in time of need. And I have read them often, those words so true and clear, What heart that would not soften, thy wisdom to revere."
CHAPTER II.
A CELEBRATION AT BARETTI'S.
The Lookouts' plan to entertain their friends at either Baretti's or the Colonial on their first evening at Hamilton was over-ruled by Leila and Vera. As Hortense Barlow, Robina Page and Portia Graham were still missing from their circle of friends, they agreed to postpone their own celebration until the missing ones should have returned to Hamilton. Thus Vera and Leila gained their point and were in high glee over it. Privately they were glad to have the Lookouts to themselves for the evening, with the addition only of Katherine and Helen.
The warm September day had vanished into a soft, balmy night, garnished by a full, silvery moon. The road to Baretti's was light as day and the nine girls, clad in delicate-hued summer frocks, added to the pale beauty of the night. They were in high spirits, as the incessant murmur of their voices, punctuated by frequent ripples of light laughter, amply testified.
Entering the quaint, stately restaurant, the Lookouts stopped to pay courteous respects to Guiseppe Baretti, the proud proprietor, a small, somber-eyed Italian. Their frequent patronage of Baretti's during their freshman year had made them very welcome guests. Signor Baretti's solemn face became wreathed with smiles as he greeted them.
"It is certainly good to be here again!" exclaimed Jerry. By appropriating two extra chairs from a nearby vacant table, the nine diners had managed to seat themselves without crowding at one table.
"Isn't it, though?" Vera Mason glanced happily around the circle. "I miss Baretti's dreadfully during vacations. There is really no other restaurant quite like