“Well, the Weatherbee is going to town, and she couldn’t go alone. Some one might steal her, and she insinuated she might take Miss Allen. It appears there is one star she must see by hand. So I predict, lucky one, you will duck that much discussed and disgusting forensic. Whilst I pine, and tar, and tarry: being the only friend of Jane Allen,” and Judith made an absurd attempt to sob, with the disastrous result of a gag, and choking fit, upsetting, for the moment, coherent speech. Jane wanted to tell her chum of Helen’s letter, but hesitated, the exuberant spirits fizzing and bubbling over the proposed concert, reminded Jane, that Judith was first a girl, second the confidant. It would be rash to impose upon her at that moment, the serious portend of Helen’s affairs. “And have you heard about the beauty parlor?” further effused Judith. “What’s new?” “Dolorez is packing, ready to check out.” “You mean she is leaving college?” “College is leaving her, she has been requested to avaunt.” “Oh, what do you mean, Judy? Has Dolorez been expelled?” “Well, it was this way,” and the tantalizing girl propped her head more compactly with an extra cushion. “It seems she went right on with the scheme, in the very face of all protests. The people she had interested refused to withdraw, on so simple a difficulty as a Wellington blockade or boycott—take your choice. Then, when Dolorez kept going out, and coming in, and lugging furniture from the village, and pinning up impossible curtains with Wellington hammer and tacks, Mrs. Weatherbee just called her before President Blakesly and Dean Rutledge. They had an interesting session in Warburton Hall, Dol shed a few tears of sheer rage, then crumbled up in a tailor-made heap—and cried ‘Kamerad!’” “Judy, has Dolorez gone?” “She hasn’t kissed me good bye yet, and I do hope she will not fail to avail herself of the privilege. But I fancy she is about on the wing by now. I saw old Peter with his ground plane, and I think I knew the trunk.” “I wanted to appeal to Dolorez not to—injure Helen, Judith.” Jane said in her most sober tone, emphasized with the serious title Judith instead of Judy. “I have felt she must have enough kindness somewhere to listen to reason, and you know, she is the only one here who knew Helen at Blindwood. Out there perhaps, our little girl had not sense enough to be as conservative as she is now, and it is quite possible Dolorez knows more about the troubles than do you or I.” “I wouldn’t wonder, Jane,” replied Judith, also assuming a serious tone. “I have heard so many remarks the origin of which I have laid at Dolorez’ door. That nonsense about a boy calling in New York was purely her mental output, the brand being plainly marked with her particular identification code. But how is our little Helen? Haven’t seen her in a rock of ages.”