The day of the sophomore reception was a busy one for the members of the sophomore class.  To them, it was the event of the year, and the desire to make this dance outshine all its predecessors was paramount in almost every sophomore breast.  Of course, there were the digs, who never thought of festivities, but spent all their time in study.  No one counted on their help.  The greater part of the class, however, was properly enthusiastic over the music, decorations, gowns and dance cards.  Grace and Miriam, who were on the decorating committee, had spent the greater part of their day in the gymnasium.  Under the skilful direction of the committee the big room blossomed out in strange and gorgeous array.  There were the masses of evergreen so convenient for hiding unsightly gymnasium apparatus, which made the gymnasium a veritable forest green.  Strings of Japanese lanterns added to the effect, while the freshmen and sophomore colors impartially wound the gallery railing and were draped and festooned wherever there was the slightest chance for display.

The sophomores had put forth their best efforts in behalf of their freshman sisters.  When it came to sofa cushions and draperies they had surrendered their most highly treasured possessions for the good of the cause.

“I think we may congratulate ourselves,” commented Gertrude Wells as she stood beside Miriam Nesbit, surveying their almost completed task.  “Look at my hands!  I have scratched and bruised them handling those evergreens.  My dress is a sight, too,” she added, pointing first to the green stains that decorated her white linen gown, then significantly to a three-cornered tear near the bottom of the skirt.  “I don’t care.  It will be out of style by next summer, at any rate.”

“I’m not much better off,” declared Miriam.  “You can’t be a working woman and keep up a bandbox appearance, you know.”

“I should say not,” laughed Arline Thayer, who had come up in time to hear Miriam’s last remark.

“Does any one know the time?” asked Grace, standing back a little to view the effect of the bunting she had been winding about a post.  “I can’t see the gym. clock from here.  It is so swathed in green boughs and decorations that its poor round face is almost hidden, and I’m really too tired to go close enough to find out.”

“It’s five minutes past four o’clock,” informed Gertrude, glancing at the tiny watch pinned to her waist.

“Good gracious!” exclaimed Arline Thayer, “I can’t stay here another minute.  I have a hundred things to do before to-night.”

“Where’s Ruth?” asked Grace.  “I haven’t seen either of you lately except at an aggravating distance.”

Arline’s baby face hardened.  “I haven’t seen Ruth for over two weeks,” she said stiffly.

“You haven’t!” exclaimed Grace, who, stooping to tie her shoe, had not noticed Arline’s changed expression.  As she straightened up her surprised gray eyes met Arline’s defiant blue ones.  Like a flash she remembered.  “Then you don’t know who she has invited to the reception?”

“No,” responded Arline shortly.  “I don’t know anything about it.”

Grace was about to say something further when, overtaken by sudden thought, she turned her face away to hide the smile that hovered about her lips.  Meanwhile, Gertrude Wells had engaged Arline in conversation, and Ruth’s name was not mentioned again.

“This is positively my last appearance this afternoon as a decorator,” declared Emma Dean.  “I’m going home to beautify myself for the great moment when I shall stand in line with my sophomore sisters to greet the infant freshmen.”

“I’m going home, too, but without bursting into language,” drawled J. Elfreda Briggs.  “I pounded my thumb with a hammer, scratched my nose on an obstinate hemlock bough, and lost a bran span new pair of scissors.  I think it is high time to leave this place.  I’m not on the reception committee, ’tis true, but I have weighty matters to consider and am on the verge of a perilous undertaking.”  She uttered the last words in an all too familiar undertone, shooting a mischievous glance at her friends which caused Grace, Anne and Miriam to laugh outright.

“What are you girls laughing at?” demanded Gertrude Wells.

“Elfreda is so funny,” explained Grace enigmatically.  Then, fearing to offend Gertrude, she said hastily, “What she said was extremely laughable to us, because she was imitating some one we know.”

The knot of girls separated soon after, going their separate ways.  Anne, Grace, Miriam, Elfreda and Emma Dean turned their faces toward Wayne Hall.

“I wonder if Ruth is going?” remarked Grace, who walked behind Anne.  “I thought we’d see her this afternoon.”

“I noticed how sharply Arline answered you,” said Anne significantly.

“Poor Ruth, I haven’t a minute to spare or I’d run down there.  We must go to-morrow afternoon, Anne.  We’ll take Ruth to Vinton’s for dinner and, oh, Anne! let’s invite Arline and make them be friends!”

“Splendid!” admired Anne.  “I’ll take charge of Ruth and you can look out for Arline.”

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll be ready for the reception some time to-morrow,” called Elfreda derisively.  The two quickened their steps.  The three girls ahead looked back, then mischievously began running toward Wayne Hall.

“We can catch them, Anne,” exulted Grace.

“You mean you can,” laughed Anne.  “Run ahead and surprise them.”

Grace was off like the wind.  Although the three girls ran well they were no match for the lithe, slender young woman who ran like a hunted deer.  She soon passed her friends and running on to the hall sat down on the steps with no apparent traces of exhaustion to wait for them.

“Let me see, what track team did you say you belonged to?” quizzed Elfreda, with open admiration.  “If I could run like that I’d be happy.  Where did you learn to run?”

“Back in Oakdale, where I was the prize tomboy of the school,” laughed Grace.  “Have you seen to your flowers for your freshman?  I ordered pink roses for Miss Evans.  Anne chose violets for Miss Taylor, didn’t you, Anne?”

“I ordered violets for Miss Wilton, too,” said Miriam.

“I tried to get snap dragons,” giggled Elfreda, “but it’s rather late in the season for them.  Instead, the Anarchist will flourish a nosegay of blood-red roses.  I can’t imagine her parading around the gym. bedecked with violets.”

“Elfreda, you are anything but a chivalrous escort,” commented Anne.

“I am at least sincere,” returned Elfreda, with an affected simper.  “I hope those flowers haven’t loitered along the way.  I must call on my fair lady and see if she has received hers.  I’m beginning to feel excited.  I’m going to eat my dinner post haste.  I want to get dressed and practice my bow before the mirror ere I enter the sacred precincts of her majesty’s boudoir.  Then I shall sweep into her domicile, arrayed in all my glory.  She will be so overcome at sight of me and my splendor that she will follow me down to the carriage like a lamb.  I ask you, ladies, after seeing me in that new white silk gown of mine, what Anarchist could resist me?”

“Of whom did Elfreda remind you just then, Grace?” asked Miriam.

“Hippy,” laughed Grace.  “She looked exactly like him.”

“Never saw him,” stated Elfreda laconically.

“But you gave a fine imitation of him just the same!” exclaimed Grace.