ite
snowbanks, completely hid the walls from view. Spread over the floor,
except for a space in the middle reserved for dancing, were pine needles
and more patches of snow; and everywhere frosty tinsel glimmered in the
soft, blue light of the covered electric bulbs.

The girls walked lightly and spoke softly, as if they feared that by
some rude noise they might break the magic spell of the scene.

Marjorie, wearing her first real party dress--a pale blue georgette,
with a silver sash, and a narrow silver band about her forehead, seemed
in perfect harmony with the blue and silver of the scene. But, standing
gracefully erect, with one satin-slippered foot extended in front of the
other, and her head thrown back as she contemplated the effect, she did
not think of the impression she was making. It was not until Lily
Andrews, her room-mate, drew her attention to her costume that she
thought of herself.

"Your dress is just lovely with the rest of the effect," she said,
putting her arm affectionately through Marjorie's.

"Thanks, Lil," replied the other girl carelessly. "Isn't the room
wonderful? I think it's the prettiest scene, off the stage, that I ever
saw!"

"It's lovely. They certainly can't help liking it, can they?"

"Poor freshies!" sighed Marjorie, with the infinite wisdom of the
sophomore. "Remember how green we were?"

"Indeed, I do--and that first reception, when they still had the
sorority! Didn't we just think Frances Wright and Ethel Todd were
nothing short of goddesses? I wonder whether these freshmen know about
our Girl Scout troop, and are as eager to make it as we were the
sorority!"

But before Lily could reply, the orchestra, three players who came from
the city, entered the room, and Marjorie hurried over to give them the
final directions. When she turned around again, Lily had vanished; but
near her stood Ruth Henry, her old friend from her home town, who had
played the part of jealous rival ever since the girls had been at Miss
Allen's.

"Hello, Marj!" She greeted her with the old familiarity; indeed, the
girls were good friends now, in spite of all that had happened the
previous year. "Your dress is sweet," she added.

"I'm glad you like it, Ruth. Yours is a dream, too!"

Ruth sat down on a chair near-by, and beckoned Marjorie to sit beside
her.

"The freshies aren't here yet," she remarked. "We might as well rest. I
want to ask you something."

Marjorie complied with her request a