“I never thought it would look just like that, did you, Billie?” Kit asked confidentially, when they started back to the campus, after the notes on Semele.

“Well, I knew well what to expect, because we’ve been doing the Smithsonian Institute pretty well,” responded Billie, rather knowingly.  “Some of them look worse than that.  But they can’t beat our own little Alaskan and Mexican beauties.  I wonder what people were thinking about back in those days to worship that sort of thing?”

But Kit caught sight of five of the girls just rounding the corner after a hike along the shore, and she hailed them, much to Billie’s inward disgust.  While he approved thoroughly of Kit, he viewed the average girl from a safe altitude indifference.  But Kit introduced him in an off-hand, casual manner which put him at his ease, and when they started up the primrose path, it was the “Jinx” herself who had taken possession of Billie, and was interesting him thoroughly, telling of her father’s big stock farm outside of Maquoketa.

They found Stanley Howard awaiting them on one of the big tree seats, outside the Hall.  Clayton was with him, strumming on a ukulele, as they talked, happily and lazily.  The girls followed Kit into the library, as she went on a hunt after Semele, and here Amy faced her accusingly.

“You never told us a word about this Billie boy,” she declared, “and ever since you came here, you’ve made believe to overlook boys.  You haven’t wanted them in any of our affairs.  You made fun of the girls who did want them, and all the time you’ve had this one up your sleeve.  Kathleen, explain.”

“If he’s a relative,” Peggy interposed, serenely, “we’ll let you off.  You’ve never been initiated into anything.  You haven’t even had your freshman hazing, because the Dean doesn’t approve of such doings, and we felt that we’d better keep it out of the family, but there are limits, aren’t there, girls?”

Kit laughed up at them, as she groped about on the floor picking up the scattered pages of notes.

“Well, he’s a relative, if you must know,” she retorted.  “He’s my father’s first cousin’s husband’s grandchild.  Now haze me if you like.”

Vowing that this connection was altogether too nebulous to save her from the threatened penalty, the girls buried the hatchet for the time being in the entertainment of the guests.

“I suppose Hope looks pretty small to you after the universities back east,” Norma said to Billie, as they made the rounds of the buildings, after Amy had played hostess with Kit’s help, and had brought down a goodly supply of fudge and peanut nougat.

“Looks mighty good,” returned Billie, heartily.  “I think you can have loads more fun in a place like this than you can at the big schools.  And you know, I’m not going to a university or anything of that sort.  I’m just at the ‘Prep’ and taking up special branches outside with Mr. Howard.”