ebrations all for you. Now clear out, girls, because
I'm dying to lay out the first edition schedule."

"Charity's editor of the '_Glamour_,'" Peg said. "The boys call it the
'_Clamour_,' but we don't mind. It used to be the '_Gleam_,' but we
thought 'Glamour' carried more intensity with it. Kit's going to dash off
some little simple trifle in spare moments for us, aren't you? Amy writes
poetry, free verse. Show them that bit you made up in Assembly."

Amy took out a sheet of copy paper from her Ancient History, and read
aloud:

"Oh, wayward maid,
Hast strayed
Too far from native strand.
Lost in a maze, the savage gaze
Becomes a frightened, spellbound gaze,
By fond ambition fanned."

"Sounds just like Pope, doesn't it?" said Kit. "I like that last line, 'by
fond ambition fanned.'"

"Seek not the sacred hall of fame,
Cling to thy simple life,
On Hope's high banner, Beaubien,
Shall never, never----"

But Kit interrupted pointblank. She was sitting up very straight on the
divan, with a certain expression around her mouth, and a very steady
purposeful look in her eyes, which even Jean at home paid attention to.

"Just a minute," she said, quickly. "Do you mean Marcelle Beaubien?
Because if you do, I don't think that's fair."

CHAPTER XII

KIT LOCATES A "FOUNDER"

Peg patted her in a conciliatory manner.

"Now, my child," she said, "curb that swift and rising wrath, and bottle
the vials thereof. What is Hecuba to you, or you to Hecuba?"

"Poor little Peggy," Charity murmured, "getting into trim for a
Shakespeare drive? You know, Kit, our Peg is president of the Portia
Dramatic Club, and the mantle doth not rest lightly on her young
shoulders."

But Kit could not be diverted, and the color rose somewhat belligerently
in Amy's cheeks, too;

"I don't see," she said, "why you feel that you have to take Marcelle
Beaubien's part. If you knew all about her the way we girls do, you'd let
her alone."

"I don't see how she ever came up here anyway," Norma remarked. "It's
just exactly as if one of her brothers tried to come in. Do you think the
boys would stand for that?"

"Why on earth shouldn't they?" demanded Kit, hotly. "And I'd like to know
what they've got to say about it anyway. I don't think that's the college
spirit. Any one who wants an education and is willing to work for it
should be admitted."

"Yes, but if they had any sense at all," res