“Never mind; we’re not sensitive plants,” was Marjorie’s light assurance. “Our haughty, fairy-tale princess may change her mind about us later.” Marjorie made light of the snub in order to soothe Miss Remson’s wounded pride at the rudeness offered her favorite students. “Maybe she is so upset over having to come to America to college, when she doesn’t wish to, that she can’t be very cordial to any one.” “Good little Lieutenant, you keep the first tradition better than I.” Leila dropped a fond arm over Marjorie’s shoulder. “Certainly, I don’t, silly.” Marjorie’s energetically protesting tones suddenly ceased. Silvery and sweet on the scented night air came the chimes’ familiar prelude. Followed the stroke of eleven, clear, solemn, individual in tone. To Marjorie it was as though her second Hamilton friend had come to say a soothing good-night to her after a “trying hike.” While she had kept on a strictly even keel during the short call on Miss Monroe she had secretly winced at the other girl’s insolent reception of her and her chums. While the chimes sang away the hurt she sat listening to them and trying to clear her brain of all ungenerous thoughts. Her face burned as she recalled the steady way in which Miss Monroe had looked at her. She understood the reason. While Marjorie was absolutely without vanity, she could not pretend that she did not know her own claim to beauty. For four years she had been hailed frankly at Hamilton as the college beauty. Far from flattered, she ducked the title whenever she could. Always in her mind lived the quaint charge delivered by the judge at the beauty contest which she had won during her freshman year. “Brede ye, therefore, sweet maid, no vanitye of the mind, but say ye raythere, at even, a prayer of thankfulnesse for the gifte of Beauty by the Grace of God.” Strangely enough the ancient sentiment had popped into her mind at sight of beautiful, golden-haired Miss Monroe. With it had come a kindly plan of her own. She promised herself that she would put it into action as soon as she came back to Hamilton in the fall. As a result of Miss Hamilton’s energetic effort on behalf of Page and Dean, the willing firm found themselves more willing to work than overcrowded with it. More the secretive old lady ordered Marjorie and Robin to do nothing but have a good time with their chums for the next three days and not dare to come near the Arms or even call her on the telephone. Her emphatic message to them was: “Come to the Arms to seven o’clock dinner, all of you, next Sunday evening. That means be at the Arms by three in the afternoon. Perhaps you may hear something to your interest.” Robin and Marjorie had not yet been nearer the cherished site than the point on Hamilton Highway from which they had viewed it on the day of their arrival on the campus. They delicately refrained from examining the work at close range until they had talked with Miss Susanna and received her sanction.