our new sorority. We're not going to have
anything to do with you ever again. So there!"

Public opinion had for once triumphed on the right side, and Mabel and
Bertha, greatly discomfited, found their influence over the late Stars
was at an end. The threat of telling Rachel had frightened Mabel; she
was uncertain how much the Camellia Buds really knew, and judged it
discreet to drop her clandestine correspondence. She had no wish for the
matter to meet the ears of Miss Rodgers, who, she was well aware, would
take the most serious view of it. Though she cherished a grudge against
her late inquisitors, she submitted to their demands, and for the time
at any rate gave no outward cause for complaint.

CHAPTER XIII

Peachy's Pranks

"I'm sorry to have to announce it," said Peachy, "but my spirits are
fizzing over, and I guess if I don't go just the teeniest weeniest bit
on the rampage I'll fly all to pieces and make a scene. Sometimes I'm
tingling down to my toes and I've just _got_ to explode. Being good is a
lonesome job."

Peachy was sitting with Irene and Delia on one of the marble seats at
the bottom of the lemon pergola. It was a favorite spot with the girls,
for it was sheltered from the prevailing wind and the flowers grew
particularly luxuriantly. Lovely irises were blooming, white narcissus,
wallflowers, and beds of Parma violets, and the beautiful delicate
blossom of the arbutula drooped from an archway that spanned the path.
Irene, who was used by this time to Peachy's whimsical moods, laid aside
the book she was reading and laughed.

"Poor old sport! You've evidently got it badly to-day. What can we do
for you? How, where, and when do you want to rampage?"

Peachy shook her head dolefully.

"I don't know. Only wish I did. I'm tired of doing the same things over
and over again every day. Getting up in the morning and dressing myself,
having breakfast, going to classes, having dinner, grinding at prep,
playing tennis, having tea and supper, and undressing and going to bed.
I want to sleep in my clothes or go to class in my wrapper just for a
change, and I'd like tennis in the morning and tea instead of dinner.
I'm tired of the house and the garden. I want to dodge Antonio and go
through the big gate and run down the road. I tell you I want to do
absolutely anything that's weird and impossible and out of the ordinary.
Yes, I know I'm wrought up. I'm just crazy for a real frolic. Who'll
play 'Foll