“I’ve been ashamed to,” declared Shirley, “and thankful the juniors who helped me did not torture me with questions.  Well—­she was that foreign element with a name like a crocheted alphabet and a face like a week old Easter egg—­running its colors, you know.  Dol has her down from New York to practice for the stage,” this thought revived Shirley’s spirits and she gave a gay howl.  “I can see why she needs the woods to practice the yells she’s cultivating,” a foot was kicked out at the thought.  “But I’m through with them, Kitten, but please don’t think I’ve reformed,” she gasped.  “I despise turncoats and—­traitors.”

Shirley wore an angora tarn, leaf green sweater and big plaid golf skirt just then.  No one in Wellington could have criticised her outfit.  Even her attire seemed benefited by the miracle.

“Bye-by, little sister,” she addressed Sally.  “This experience has done something else for me other than opening my stupid eyes—­it has given me a real chum.”

And she got away before Sally could answer.

CHAPTER XX

TOUCHSTONE

“Have you noticed, Judy,” asked Jane, “what a miraculous improvement is manifest in our two pet freshies?  To wit:  Sally and Shirley.”

“Yes,” snapped Judith, “and I’ve noticed something else.  You are apt to fall in love with the rebel.”

Jane laughed.  She was looking so lovely after a wild time in the pool, and a girl who can look well after a swim is surely very pretty.  But Jane’s hair loved the water, and a flash of sunshine after it just whipped the little ringlets into flossy tangles.  Then her eyes always danced from excitement, and her agile form just vibrated energy.  Don’t blame Jane for this description—­it is given through Judy’s eyes, whose hair went stringy, whose eyes went blinky, and who actually turned “goose flesh” from a pool swim in December.

“No,” said Jane, “I couldn’t really love a girl who has been so temperamental, but I could tolerate her, and that’s a concession.”

“If I don’t rub down quickly I’m afraid these goose fleshings will freeze into pebbles.  I fee like a big stone as it is,” said Judith, shivering, chattering and turning bluer.  “Wait for me in the run; I want to talk to you.”

The “run” was that part of the gym kept clear for free exercise and was used especially by such students as demanded a substitute for the “beach run in the sand” after swimming.  Also, it gave space for track work, although the open season for cross country runs was rarely closed at Wellington.

Jane was dressed and out before Judith appeared.  It was Saturday again, a free day; free from study but simply crowded with other contingencies.  Students were knotted together, ready for basketball, golf, handball and all other forms of exercise, not to omit the dress rehearsal at dancing already well under way in a corner clear of apparatus and ropes.  Here girls were dreamily dancing who knew how to dance well, while others were showing steps to companions and comparing notes on new dances, as applied from various sections of the country.  What Boston had last year, Chicago was disclaiming as too old; and again there was Maud Leslie from Jersey actually teaching Nellie Saunders from Buffalo the Drop Step.