“I do appreciate the honor,” faltered Sally, “but there is a reason--a serious reason why I feel I should decline.”

“Wait a minute!  I’ll persuade her,” said Dolly, and in the time specified she was back in the corner again and had Jane with her.

“She simply has got to deliver those flowers,” explained Nellie.  “She matches as if she were dressed for the part.  See her yellow head, her yellow and white gown, the dear little golden slippers; then the great huge, gigantic bunch of chrysis—­we all chipped in for those—­”

“Miss Allen, please let me off,” begged Sally, turning two blue eyes, overflowing with meaning, full on Jane.

“I cannot go back on a sorority order,” said Jane, wondering why she should.  “There’s your cue, and Sally, here are the flowers.  Bun along, little girl.  There’s a dear.”

Sally was “running along” in the freshmen’s glide, almost hidden behind the shock of golden balls, before she could further protest.

“Wellington, dear Wellington!” finished the chorus; and then the senior who was on the little platform by the orchestra, called the dean forward and in “a few well chosen words” told Miss Rutledge how much every girl in college loved her.

Dear, gentle, beloved Miss Rutledge!  Her cameo beauty was not lost even in that group of glowing students.  She wore her stately heliotrope brocade, and her perfectly white wavy hair just framed a face soft as damask, with enough natural warmth of color to defy any record of years.

Sally glided along with the bouquet, while the dean spoke softly, gently, in that strangely far-reaching voice peculiar to those who train for such concentration.  Directly Sally placed the flowers in her extended hands applause broke loose.

What music can compete with the simple inspiration of hand clapping?  And these students knew that score in jazz perfectly.

Finally, Sally turned back again in the little aisle made for her through the assemblage, and before she had proceeded more than a few paces Bobbie rescued her.

“Kitten!” she whispered, putting her strong arms about the now trembling Sally.  “How perfectly lovely!  Here’s Ted.  He is too excited to speak.  I have just been trying to restore him.”

“King Pin of the Freshies!” Ted managed to orate, seizing Sally’s hand in congratulation.  “That stunt is something we fellows miss.  If it were our old ‘Shuffles’ now, likely we would treat him to a soft little ball on his renowned pate.”

“King Pin of the Freshies!” took up Bobbie.  “Splendid!  I’ll tell Nellie that and she can chime it in her new class song.  Here they are claiming you, Kitten.  Come on and see what’s doing in the rear.  Boys”—­to Teddy—­“not allowed.”

“Never are when there’s anything good in sight,” replied Ted pleasantly.  “Where’s that pretty girl—­my dance—­oh, here she is,” and he seized Judith for the Drop Step just being inaugurated.