After the last girl had had her turn the veiled leader mounted the platform and threw back her swathing net.

“She’s the president of the senior class, Mabel Waters,” whispered a girl near Betty.

“I have the honor to welcome you all as members in good standing of the novice class, first-degree, Mysterious For,” announced Miss Waters.  “That’s all there is to the name, girls—­when we decided to form a new society here in school some one asked ‘What’s it for?’ So our organization became the Mysterious F-O-R, and you’ll find out as time goes on what the answer is.  I might say, though, that happiness and good fellowship and a little spice of sisterliness are what we try to incorporate in the unwritten bylaws.  And now I think Aunt Nancy has some cake and ice-cream for us.”

Saturday was a busy day for the one hundred and sixty odd girls who were enrolled at Shadyside.  Penance and pleasure had a way of marking off the hours.  Those who were good were allowed to go twice a month to Edentown, chaperoned by a teacher, for shopping, moving picture treats, and such other simple pleasures as the small city afforded.  There were always a number of girls sentenced to “within bounds,” which were the spacious school grounds, for minor sins of omission and commission.  Bobby Littell was usually among these.  She was impulsive and heedless, and got herself into hot water with amazing regularity.

“Bobby,” announced Betty, one Saturday morning not long after the initiation into the Mysterious For, “don’t you think you could manage to have a good record this coming week?  We want to go nutting a week from to-day, and if you have to stay in bounds it will spoil all the fun.”

“I’ll try my best,” promised Bobby solemnly.  “I never mean to do a thing, Betty.  Trouble is, I think afterward.  I did want to go to Edentown to-day, too, but Libbie and Frances have promised to get the wool for my sweater.  Want to come down to the gym?  I’m going to drill my squad this morning.”

In the gymnasium they found Ada Nansen, also in charge of a squad.

“She flunked twice in French and was impudent to Madame,” whispered Bobby, who knew all the school gossip.  “Mrs. Eustice canceled her Edentown permit.”

Ada frankly scowled at the newcomers.  She had found the Littell girls slow to overtures of friendship, and they persisted in displaying an annoying fancy for the society of Betty and the Guerin girls, who, for all Ada knew, might be what she described to her mother as “perfect nobodies.”  So Ada and Ruth Royal gradually formed a circle of their own to which gravitated the more snobbish girls, those who fought, openly or covertly, the rule for simple dressing, and those who found in Ada’s characteristics of petty meanness, worship of money, and social aspirations a response to similar urgings of their own natures.

“Well, Bobby, I’m glad to see you and your ‘men,’” said Miss Anderson briskly.  “I was just saying to Ada that to-day is too beautiful to waste indoors.  I want you all to come out on the campus and we’ll have a race.”