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_Jacquette, A Sorority Girl_




[Illustration: _Little by little the story of the evening came out_]




  Jacquette
  _A Sorority Girl_

  BY
  _GRACE ETHELWYN CODY_

  ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES JOHNSON POST

  [Illustration: FIDE ET LITERIS]

  NEW YORK
  _DUFFIELD & COMPANY_
  1908




  COPYRIGHT, 1908
  BY DUFFIELD & COMPANY

  _Published 1908_

  THE PREMIER PRESS
  NEW YORK




     _To
  My Mother_




CONTENTS


                                  PAGE

     I. JACQUETTE                    1

    II. MADEMOISELLE                25

   III. TIA                         44

    IV. BOBS                        68

     V. THE GAME                    87

    VI. THE MASS-MEETING           109

   VII. THE “FOOL-KILLER”          128

  VIII. FEBRUARY RUSHING           148

    IX. JACQUETTE’S REBELLION      170

     X. COMMENCEMENT               189

    XI. COMPROMISE                 208

   XII. THE REAL QUEEN             230

  XIII. CHRISTMAS                  263




_Jacquette, A Sorority Girl_

CHAPTER I

JACQUETTE


It was nine o’clock in the evening when a heavy train rolled into the
Union Station of a great western city. Among the passengers to alight
was a fair-haired girl who glanced timidly about the big, cavernous
station before falling in with the procession of travellers that had
begun to move toward the waiting-room. Suddenly, one face shone clearly
from among the indiscriminate mass of faces outside the iron gates, and
she gave a glad little cry, as a tall boy stepped forward, caught her
suitcase from her, and grasped her hand.

“Jacquette, isn’t it?” he exclaimed, his dark eyes shining with
welcome. “I’d know you anywhere from your pictures.”

“But I shouldn’t know you!” she answered. “I’d no idea you were so big
and--and grand!” she finished, roguishly.

“As for that, I am rather grand, to-night,” he laughed, stealing
admiring glances at her as he led the way through the crowded station
to the street. “I’m down here in the governor’s new auto to meet a
long-lost country cousin, and I find a fairy princess, instead. What
more could a fellow ask?”

“Not an automobile! Truly? I’ve never been in one, yet.”

“Oh, well, you’ll do a lot of things in Channing that you never did in
Brookdale. Here’s the machine. Just step in and be comfortable while I
look after your baggage.”

He gave an order to the respectful chauffeur and disappeared into the
station, while Jacquette Willard looked after him, feeling that she had
suddenly entered a new world. She sat up very straight, brushing a bit
of lint from the jacket of her wine-coloured travelling-gown, and, more
than once, she patted the sunny mist of hair about her face, and put
both hands to the jaunty hat, to make sure that it was poised exactly
as it should be. In a few minutes her tall cousin came back and seated
himself beside her, and then they went spinning along the brilliantly
lighted streets toward her uncle’s home.

“It seems like a fairy story to me, Quis,” she said, looking up at him
with a shy smile.

“Didn’t I tell you you were the princess?” Marquis answered gaily. “Do
you know?--there’s a pink rose in our conservatory that looks just
like you, only it lacks the eyes--poor rose! Your pictures showed your
hair was curly, but they didn’t tell the gold colour of it, and those
stunning braids didn’t show, either. Wonder if the girls will make you
put up your hair?”

“What girls?”

“Oh, the bunch I’ll show you, to-morrow morning. Nicest girls in
Marston High.”

“High school, do you mean?”

“Yes; we never stop to put on the school, though. Everybody knows
Marston. It’s famous all through the west for its football team. I’m
mighty glad