“His grandmother has always been so strict with him,” said Helen. “You know how she treated him while we were lodging with her when the new West Dormitory at Briarwood was being built.”
“I remember very clearly,” agreed Ruth. “And, after all, Curly wasn’t such a bad fellow. Mrs. Smith says he threatens to run away. That would be awful.”
“Goodness! I believe I’d run away myself,” said Helen, “if I had anybody who nagged me as Mrs. Sadoc Smith does Henry.”
“And she doesn’t mean to. Only she doesn’t like boys—nor understand them,” Ruth said, as she folded the letter with a sigh. “Poor Curly!”
“Come on! let’s get out on deck and see them start. I do just long to see the wonderful New York skyline that everybody talks about.”
“And the tall buildings that we couldn’t see from the taxicab window,” added Ruth.
“Who’s going to keep the key?” demanded Helen, as Ruth locked the stateroom door.
“I am. You’re not to be trusted, young lady,” laughed Ruth. “Where’s your handbag?”
“Why—I left it inside.”
“With all that money in it? Smart girl! And the window blind is not locked. The rules say never to leave the room without locking the window or the blind.”