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“And the ‘Argus,’” added Betty. “I shouldn’t think you’d been saved, Mary. I should think you’d been pretty thoroughly used up.”

“Well, put it as you like,” said Mary modestly. “I’ve done quite a bit of work in my time, I suppose. But your speaking of the ‘Argus,’ Betty, reminds me of something. Do any of you know a girl named Georgia Ames?”

“Never heard of her,” said Katherine promptly.

“Nor I,” added Betty.

“Nor I,” chimed in Helen, who prided herself on knowing everybody that no one else knew. “Which class is she?”

Mary shook her head. “I haven’t the least idea.”

Madeline was sitting on the couch between Roberta and Betty. At a violent nudge from Roberta she came out of a brown study and entered the conversation. “What did you say, Mary?” she asked.

Mary repeated her question.

“Oh, I know her,” said Madeline, with a fine assumption of indifference. “She’s a freshman, I believe.”

“Yes, she is,” chimed in Roberta, following Madeline’s lead. “I remember the name now.”

“But doesn’t she take some upper-class work, Roberta?” asked Madeline, elaborately avoiding Roberta’s eye. “I’m sure she’s in something with me.”