Even her old love for midnight “spreads” seemed to have departed.  She became fastidious about her personal appearance and exclusive in her friendships.

At first Mrs. Hosmer considered it a good thing that Marie was “toning down,” but before long she felt that it was really not a change for the better.

The schoolgirls were not slow in commenting about it.  At the October meeting of the Browning Circle—­an association of a dozen girls, originally instituted for purposes of literary improvement, but which had lately degenerated into a “fancy-work society”—­Marie was discussed until her ears must have burned, if there is any truth in the old saying.

“Do you know, girls, that Marie Smith scarcely deigns to speak to me any more,” said Stella Gard.

“Oh, that’s nothing, Stella.  I was her room-mate last year, and she has conversed with me on just two occasions since she came back,” supplemented Anna Fergus.

“What is the matter with her?” asked a “new girl.”

“Is it possible, my dear young friend,” rejoined Anna, with mock gravity, “that you don’t know we have been sacrificed to the North Avenue Archingtons?”

The new girl looked bewildered, and Anna went on to explain: 

“It seems that last summer certain blue-blooded Archingtons, with malice aforethought, left their patrician heights on North Avenue, on which they had hitherto dwelt in solitary grandeur, and went to Cape May.  There they boarded at the same hotel with the Smith family, and deigned to bestow a few smiles upon them.  This so lifted up the heart of Marie Smythe, formerly Mary Smith, that she no longer regards her humble class-mates as fit associates for her. Hinc illae lacrymae, which means, all you who don’t know Latin, ’that’s why I’m using my handkerchief.’”

“She told me,” said little Zoe Binnex, interrupting Anna’s nonsense, “that Mrs. Archington had invited her mother to visit her.”

“I wish some of you were doomed to sit at the same table with her, as I am,” Anna went on, “and then you would wish the Archingtons at the bottom of the sea.  The way poor, patient Miss Sedgwick has to suffer!  Marie sits next her, you know, and while Miss Sedgwick ladles out the soup, Marie ladles out the Archingtons.  We have Papa North Avenue, with his four millions, at breakfast; Mamma Archington, with her diamonds, at dinner, and all the young Archingtons for supper.”

The ringing of the study-bell dispersed the members of the Browning Circle.  As Anna and Zoe passed Marie’s door, they overheard a servant requesting that young lady to go down to Mrs. Hosmer’s study.

“Perhaps Mrs. Hosmer thinks it is time to choke off some of those Archingtons,” whispered Anna.

But Mrs. Hosmer had sent for Marie for a different purpose.

A new pupil was coming, and, as Marie had no room-mate, was to be put with her.

“Oh, Mrs. Hosmer,” protested Marie, “I’d much rather room alone.”