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 of