CHAPTER IV
A Secret Sorority
The dormitories at the Villa Camellia were among the main features ofthe establishment, and were a source of considerable pride andsatisfaction to the principals, Miss Rodgers and Miss Morley. They werealways shown to parents as the very latest and newest development ofschool arrangements. Some of them were on the second story and some wereon the third, but all had French windows opening onto long verandas onwhich were placed large pots of geraniums or oleanders. The walls werecovered with striped Italian papers, the frieze being color-washed anddecorated with designs of flowers or birds, the woodwork was white, thebeds were enameled white, and the blankets, instead of being cream oryellow as they are in England, were all of a uniform shade of pale blue,with blue eider-downs to match. The whole of the house was heated byradiators, so that the dormitories were always warm, and were used asstudies by the older girls, who did most of their preparation there. Atable with ink-pots stood in the middle of each room, and a large noticeenjoining, "Silence during study hours" hung as a warning over everyfireplace.
Irene was given a vacant bed in No. 3 on the second floor, and foundherself in company with Elsie Craig, Mabel Hughes, and Lorna Carson. Forthe first two she felt no attraction, but the last excited her interestand curiosity. There was an air of mystery about Lorna; she askedquestions but gave little information in return on the subject of herown concerns. Her bright dark eyes were unfathomable, and she "keptherself to herself" with a reserved dignity not very common amongschoolgirls of her age. Irene, who loved to chatter, found Lorna a readylistener, and, although the confidence was not reciprocated and inconsequence the friendship seemed likely to be rather one-sided, it wasa friendship all the same from the very start. At the end of the week,moreover, something important happened to cement it.
For the first seven days of her residence at the Villa Camellia Irenehad felt herself "goods on approval." Peachy Proctor and her chums hadindeed given her a welcome, but afterwards they had held back a littleas if testing her before offering further intimacy. There seemed to besome secret bond amongst them, some alliance carefully hidden from thegeneral public. She caught nods, signs, mysterious words, and veiledallusions, all of which were instantly suppressed when her presence wasnoticed. On the eighth day after arrival she found a note inside herdesk. It was marked--
PRIVATE
This must be opened in _absolute seclusion_
and
its contents must be treated with the
_Strictest Confidence_
A crowded classroom, with inquisitive form-mates ready to peep over hershoulder, did not seem the congenial atmosphere for the opening of themissive, so Irene was obliged to curb her curiosity until mid-morning"interval," when she gulped her glass of milk hastily, took her portionof biscuits, and, avoiding conversation, hurried down the garden to theseclusion of a stone arbor. Here she tore open the envelope, and drewforth a large sheet of exercise paper. On it was printed in bold blackletters:
"You are elected a member of the Sorority of Camellia Buds. Pleasepresent yourself for initiation to-night at 8.10 prompt in No. 13.Strictest secrecy enjoined."
There was no signature, but Irene gave a smile of comprehension.Dormitory No. 13 was shared by Peachy Proctor, Jess Cameron, DeliaWatts, and Mary Fergusson. There was, therefore, little doubt but thatshe was to be received into the secret society of whose existence shehad already gathered some hints.
"I'll be there at 8.10," she whispered to Peachy, as they trooped intothe French class.
"Right-o!" replied that light-hearted damsel. "Just one warning--don'tbe scared at anything that happens; it's all in fun! Don't say I toldyou, though. No, I can't explain. I'm not allowed. You'll soon findout."
Peachy shook off Irene's company as if in a hurry to get rid of herbefore she asked any more questions, so there was nothing to be done butwait in patience until the evening. Supper was at 7.30, and from 8 tillhalf past the girls did as they chose. Those who wished to study mighttake the extra time for preparation, but work was not obligatory, and itwas an understood thing that in the interval between supper and "setrecreation" visits might be paid to other dormitories, and that so longas no noise reached the ears of the prefects, anybody disposed to befrivolous might indulge in a little harmless fun.
Irene's wrist-watch was not a reliable timepiece, having bad habits ofgalloping and then suddenly losing, so to-night she did not trust to it,but sat in the hall with her eyes on the big white-faced clock. Atexactly nine and a half minutes past eight she ran upstairs and tappedat the door of dormitory 13. There were sounds of scuffling inside andan agitated voice squealed:
"Wait a minute."
But after a few moments quiet reigned and somebody else called:
"Come in!"
Feeling rather as if she were awaiting initiation into some Nihilistassociation Irene entered the room. As she did so a bandage was clappedover her eyes and she was led forward blindfolded. It was only after animpressive pause that the handkerchief was removed.
It was well she had been warned beforehand, or the sight which met hergaze might have caused her to emit a yell loud enough to attract theattention of a passing prefect. The Villa Camellia was admirablysupplied with electric light, but on this historic occasion theapartment was illuminated solely by a couple of candle-ends stuck in apair of vases. Their flickering flame revealed a solemn row of ninedressing-gowned figures, each of which wore a black paper mask withholes for her eyes. The general effect was most startling and horrible,and resembled a meeting of the Inquisition, or some other society benton torture and dark doings. Repressing her first gasp, however, Irenebore the vision with remarkable equanimity, and advancing towards thedread figures waited obediently until she was addressed. Evidently shehad done the right thing, for the spokeswoman, clearing her throat,began in impressive accents:
"Sister Irene Beverley, you are admitted here to-night to be made amember of our Sorority. Are you willing to join and to take thepledges?"
"Yes, thanks, but please what's a sorority?" ventured Irene meekly.
Two or three distinct snickers were heard from underneath the blackmasks, but a voice murmured, "Order!" and the sounds promptly ceased.
"A sorority is a secret sisterhood," explained the President, "just thesame as a fraternity is a brotherhood. We call ourselves 'The CamelliaBuds,' and we're members of the Transition who have banded ourselvestogether for the purposes of mutual protection. It's a great honor to beelected. There are only nine of us so far, and we've waited ever so longto choose a tenth. I hope you appreciate the privilege?"
"I do indeed!"
"You're ready to take the vow? Then the initiation may proceed.Sword-bearers, guard the door, please."
There was a Masonic quality about the proceedings. Two dark figures,armed with rulers, placed themselves at the threshold, prepared tosettle all intruders, and to preserve the absolute secrecy of theceremony.
"Will you give your word of honor to be a loyal member of the Sororityof Camellia Buds, and never to do a dirty trick so long as you remain atthis school?" asked the President.
"I promise!" replied Irene.
At that somebody switched on the electric light, and the members,pulling off their black masks, disclosed their laughing faces.
"You stood it A-1. I was quite prepared for you to start hysterics andhad the sal volatile bottle ready right here," chirruped Delia gayly.
"We call it our 'strength of mind' test," explained President Agnes,blowing out the guttering candles.
"If I _had_ screamed what would have happened?" inquired Irene.
"Probation for another week till you got your nerves. We'd a businesswith Sheila just at first; she's rather fluttersome. Well, anyway,you've got through the ordeal, and now you're a full-fledged 'bud.'Aren't you proud?"
"Rather! Is the society limited to ten?"
"Sorority, please, not so
ciety. It's limited because there isn't anybodyelse in the Transition who's worth asking to join. Most of them are aset of utter sneaks. They may take Rachel's oath about preserving theirnationality and all the rest of it, but if they're to be countedspecimens of Anglo-American honor it makes one blush for one's mothercountry whichever side of the ocean it happens to be on. Oh, you don'tknow most of them yet! Wait till you find them out."
"You'll be glad then you belong to us."
"Not that we're perfect, of course."
"We don't set up as Pharisees."
"On the whole we're rather a lot of lunatics."
"We just have a little sport among ourselves to keep things humming."
"Well, now Irene understands, we'd best get her fixed up with a 'buddy'and close the meeting."
"But I _don't_ understand. What, for goodness' sake, is a buddy, and whymust I have one?" demanded Irene tragically.
"Sit down there, child, and let Grannie talk to you," replied PresidentAgnes. "If you haven't heard of a buddy yet it's time you did. They'rethe latest out. They had them at all the camps last summer, in Englandas well as in America. A buddy is a chum with whom you're pledged to doeverything, and who's bound to support you. For instance, when thebathing season is on you must never swim unless your buddy is swimmingwith you; if you go on an excursion you stick to each other tight asglue, and if one of you is lost the other is held responsible. You're asinseparable as a box and its lid, or the two blades of a pair ofscissors, or a bottle and its cork, or any other things you happen tothink of that ought to go together, and aren't any use apart."
"We only realized buddies last term," explained Peachy, "but the ideacaught on no end. We all went simply crazy over it. I don't mindguessing that every girl in this school who's worth her salt has got herbuddy. She mayn't let it be known outside her own sorority, but wearen't blind."
"Are there other sororities in the school then besides the CamelliaBuds?" asked Irene.
"Bless your innocence! I should think there are. There's a rival one inthe Transition. I rather fancy they've snapped up Mabel already. I gaveWinnie a hint she wasn't to tackle _you_, because you'd come to schoolwith an introduction to _me_, so I ought to have first innings. Theprefects have a sorority all to themselves, and the seniors have one,and as for the juniors, silly little things, they're as transparent asglass, with their signaling and their grips and their cypher letters.Any one can see through them with half an eye. But we're wasting time.We've got to fix you up with a buddy, and we must be quick before thebell rings."
"May we choose?" asked Irene, and her eyes fell longingly on Peachy.
"No, we mayn't!" said President Agnes firmly. "We have to take what thefates send us. It's Kismet. Every time we elect a new member we drawlots again for buddies. It's a kind of general shuffle. If we're anuneven number somebody of course has to be odd man out."
"I was the 'old maid' last draw, and I haven't had a buddy this term,"remarked Sheila plaintively.
"Never mind, ducky! You're bound to find a partner now," consoled Delia."It might even be my little self, so live in hope."
"No such luck," groaned Sheila. "I'll probably get Joan, and you knowshe always uses me as a door-mat."
Agnes meantime was writing ten names on ten separate pieces of paper andfolding them in identically the same fashion. Peachy offered the loan ofa hat, and into this treasury they were cast and shuffled.
"The newest member draws," murmured Agnes, and the others pushed Ireneforward. She chose two folds of paper at a venture, and twisted themtogether, then performed the like service for another pair, until allthe ten were assorted. The thrill of the ceremony was when Agnes openedthe screws of paper and read out the names. Fate had mixed the CamelliaBuds together thus:
Peachy Proctor--Sheila Yonge. Jess Cameron--Delia Watts. Joan Lucas--Esther Cartmel. Agnes Dalton--Mary Fergusson. Lorna Carson--Irene Beverley.
Whether the members of the secret sorority felt satisfied or otherwisewith the result of the shuffle, etiquette forbade them to show anythingbut polite enthusiasm. Each took her buddy solemnly by the hand andvowed allegiance. Peachy then produced what she called "the loving cup,"a three-handled vase of brown pottery brought by Jess from Edinburgh andwith the motto "Mak' yersel' at hame," on it in cream-colored letters.It was usually a receptacle for flowers, but it had been hastily washedfor the occasion and filled with lemonade, a rather bitter brewconcocted by Peachy and Delia from a half-ripe lemon plucked in thegarden and a few lumps of sugar saved from tea. This was passed round,and the Camellia Buds gulped it heroically as a pledge of sisterhood.
"The password is _Thistle-down_," decreed Agnes, as the members, tryingnot to pull sour faces, consoled themselves with candy and broke up themeeting. "Any one who can think of a stunt for next time please bringalong propositions. We're always open to new ideas and ready for astartler."
As a direct result of her admission to this select sorority Irene foundherself flung by Fate into the arms of Lorna Carson. Had any individualchoice been allowed she would have selected Peachy, Jess, Delia, or evenSheila in preference, but the lot once cast she must abide by it and becontent. She had a very shrewd suspicion that when the buddies got tiredof each other they elected a fresh member and so necessitated a generalreshuffle of partners, and that her admission to the society had beenwelcomed as the pretext for such a change. Here she was, however,pledged to intimate friendship with Lorna, a girl who half fascinatedand half repelled her, and who, though she might possibly turn outtrumps in the future, was for the present at least most difficult tounderstand.