At the turn Shirley drew Jane aside from the dancers and said in an undertone: 

“Miss Allen, I do wish you could persuade little Kitten—­I mean Sally, to come to the dance.  First, I was determined not to go and she persuaded me.  Then I found she herself had no idea of attending.  Of course it’s always a question of clothes!”

“Surely we must insist on her coming,” said Jane decisively.  “But it is awkward to get around clothes.  You know her so well, can you suggest a way?” Jane dared not hint that she would ask nothing better than providing the dance dress for little Sally herself.

“She is so proud, and then lately she has had reverses,” said Shirley gently.  “But if she doesn’t go I simply won’t.  Nothing could induce me to,” and she flashed through with her old time defiance.

“But this one dance is counted the real get-together of the whole year,” argued Jane.  “When a girl absents herself it usually sort of disqualifies her for all the other affairs.  Besides, it is really a benefit and we do so need a new dormitory.”

“If we could smuggle a box to her and pretend—–­Here she comes!  I’ll think it over and come for advice if I may,” said Shirley quickly.

Jane stepped back to the dancers’ whirling rim.  She was almost deciding that the country girl was charming!  But like the country girl herself, Jane detested “reformers” and was unwilling to admit that a change of heart is something wholesome and even commendable.  She knew naught of the miracle.

More puzzled than ever at Shirley’s proposal that they “smuggle a box to Sally,” Jane became anxious lest Shirley might be getting funds from some unusual, if not unlawful, source.  The malicious influence of Dol Vin was ever a disturbing factor to be reckoned with, and as yet Jane had no way of knowing that the confidential relation between the two freshmen and the beauty parlor proprietor had been broken off.

Later that day Jane confided in Judith.

“What would I do if I had no Judy to tell my troubles to,” she said with a show of sincerity.  “You may talk about new loves, but there is, and only will be, one darling Judy.”

“Don’t kiss me,” protested Judy, although Jane was on the other side of the room and gave no hint of any such intention.  “I can’t bear being babied—­makes me homesick.”  Then she laughed and blew a substitute over to Jane.  “Have you seen my dance frock?  I know Ted will adore it.  Even the box is pretty and has violets on the cover,” she sniffed.  “I’ll try it on tonight—­not the box—­and make believe you’re Teddy.”

“Judy, if some of the girls were to hear you rave that way they might take it seriously——­”

“And they would be perfectly justified in so doing,” mocked Judith.

“Please hear me.  I want to talk seriously and started off with such a lovely preamble,” interrupted Jane.  “It’s this way, Judy.  Shirley shows the earmarks of wealth, I mean money.  Now, where does she get it, and after that poor boy’s letter?”