Jane and Judith could not but notice satisfaction glowing in the freshmen’s manner when they were invited into the junior’s room.  This had been one of Shirley’s ambitions, and she did not hide her pleasure at its fulfillment.  And if she and Sally felt any qualms of conscience for their own small part in the tragedy of Madam Zeit was entirely covered by the eagerness with which the girls hailed the recital.

“We both insisted at first that she should not dare come on the campus—–­” began Sally.

“Now, Kitten, I’ll take all the blame,” interrupted Bobbie.  “Land knows, you made fuss enough.  Cried—–­”

“Oh please—–­”

“Well, you did,” insisted Bobbie, “even went into hysterics.  But I thought it would be a lark, although really I had no idea the creature would ever find her way up there.  I don’t see how she did.  We had no part in her getting in,” she explained eagerly.

“Dol Vin knew all about the attic,” declared Janet Clarke.  “She was always prowling about there for theatrical stuff; don’t you remember, Jane, how she frightened the girls one night with some foolish prank when she was dressed like a bear or something worse?”

“Oh, yes, of course I do,” recalled Jane.  “And she did continually hunt around Lenox, although she belonged with the sophs.”

“That accounts for it then,” finished Bobbie.  “I am willing to confess that I conspired to hide the crime, but I took no part in planning it.  Little Kitten almost died of fright during the whole thing, but I thought it a lot of fun to hear the chains rattle, and I hunted up stories to match.  But I was not in Lenox the night of the grand finale when she actually tried out the big scream.”

“Well, no wonder the poor babes were scared blue,” said Judith.  “And Jane, you can now tell all about your discovery of the old dumb-waiter under the tower.  That will make the story complete.”

“Don’t let any more girls in here,” ordered Dozia, for knocking at the door gave warning of an influx.  “There is no need to give everyone this private hearing.  We might want to make a real story of it for the ’Blare’—­our holiday edition just needs a live feature like this.”  So the taps were “deflected” and Jane recounted her story.  She told it so graphically that by the time she reached the “big, black hole, and the groaning ropes of the old dummy” the girls were howling and tumbling around in a pretty good imitation of Madam Z herself.  They shuddered, acted the spook, and Judith proclaimed something like the old “Curfew shall not” in her swing out the window that she imagined went with the wild night’s terrors.  This detail of Judith’s upset things some, for she fell off the couch (her pedestal for the tragic act), and although she rebounded quickly there were squeals and protests from “toes and fingers.”

Sally’s eyes were like two twinkling blue stars during all this.  Jane and Judith, more than any of the others, guessed correctly what a relief this hour of fun had brought to her tortured mind.  And to think there was no blame, not even criticism!  What is there more delightfully elastic than the mind and the heart of the young college girl?