Part 14 (1/2)
”Well, I suppose I shall have to do a little something then myself,”
said Eleanor, ”but I shan't bother yet awhile. Here comes the sleigh,”
she added, looking out of the window. ”Paul's driving, and your Mr.
Parsons has asked Georgie Arnold. What do you think of that?”
”I should certainly hope he wouldn't ask the same girl to everything, if that's what you mean,” said Betty calmly, helping Eleanor into her new coat.
Eleanor shrugged her shoulders. ”Good-bye,” she said. ”For my part, I prefer to be the one and only--while I last,” and s.n.a.t.c.hing up her furs she was off.
Betty found Mary and Katherine in possession of her room and engaged in an animated discussion about the rules of hockey.
”I tell you that when the thing-um-bob is in play,” began Katherine.
”Not a bit of it,” cut in Mary.
”Come along, girls,” interrupted Betty, fis.h.i.+ng her skates from under her couch, and pulling on her ”p.u.s.s.y” mittens. ”Never mind those rules.
You can't play hockey to-day. You promised to skate with me.”
It was an ideal winter's afternoon, clear, cold and still. The ice on Paradise was smooth and hard, and the little pond was fairly alive with skaters, most of them Harding girls. Betty was a novice, with one weak ankle that had an annoying habit of turning over suddenly and tripping her up; so she was timid about skating alone. But between Mary and Katherine she got on famously, and thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon. At four Mary had a committee meeting, Katherine an engagement to play basket-ball, and Betty had agreed to meet Rachel. So with great reluctance they took off their skates and started up the steep path that led past the boat-house to the back gate of the campus.
”Goodness, but I'm stiff,” groaned Mary, stopping to rest a minute half way up. ”I'd have skated until dinner time though, if it hadn't been for this bothering committee. Never be on committees, children.”
”Why don't you apply your own rules?” inquired Katherine saucily.
”Oh, because I'm a vain peac.o.c.k like the rest of the world. The cla.s.s president comes to me and says, 'Now Mary, n.o.body but you knows every girl in the cla.s.s. You can find out the sentiments of all sorts and conditions on this matter. And then you have such fine executive ability. I know you hate committees, but----' Of course I feel pleased by her base flattery, and I don't come to my senses until it's too late to escape. Is to-day the sixteenth?”
”No, it's Sat.u.r.day, the twentieth,” said Katherine. ”Two weeks next Monday to mid-years.”
”The twentieth!” repeated Mary in tones of alarm. ”Then, my psychology paper is due a week from Tuesday. I haven't done a thing to it, and I shall be so busy next week that I can't touch it till Friday or Sat.u.r.day. How time does fly!”
”Don't you even know what you're going to write on or anything that you're going to say?” asked Betty, who always wrote her papers as soon as they were a.s.signed, to get them off her mind, and who longed to know the secret of waiting serenely until the eleventh hour.
”Why, I had a plan,” answered Mary absently, ”but I've waited so long that I hardly know if I can use it.”
Just then Alice Waite and her roommate came panting up the hill, and Mary, who seldom took much exercise and was very tired, fell back to the rear of the procession. But when the freshmen stopped in front of the Hilton House she trilled and waved her hand to attract their attention.
”Oh. Betty, please take my skates home,” she said as she limped up to the group. Then she smiled what Roberta had named her ”beamish” smile.
”I know what you girls are talking about,” she said. ”Will you give me a supper at Holmes's if I'm right?”
”Yes,” said Katherine recklessly, ”for you couldn't possibly guess. What was it?”
”You're wondering about those fifty freshmen,” answered Mary promptly.
”What freshmen?” demanded the four girls in a chorus, utterly ignoring the lost wager.
”Why, those fifty who, according to a perfectly baseless rumor, are going to be sent home after mid-years.”
”What do you mean?” gasped Betty.