"Oh, Ruth! don't say that our folks can't give," cried Jennie, whose father likewise was rich.
"It is not in my province to say who shall, or who shall not give," declared Ruth, hastily. "I only want to point out to you girls that if the rich give a great deal the poorer will almost be ashamed to give what they can."
"That's right," said Mary Cox, suddenly. "We haven't much; so we couldn't give much."
The girls looked rather troubled; but Ruth had not finished. "There is another thing," she said. "If all your fathers give to the dormitory fund, what will you girls personally give?"
"Oh! how's that, Ruth?" cried Helen.
"Say," drawled Jennie Stone, the plump girl, "we're not all fixed like you, Ruth—with a bank account to draw on."
Ruth blushed; but she did not lose her temper. "You don't understand what I mean yet," she said. "Either I am particularly muddy in my suggestions, or you girls are awfully dense to-day."
"How polite! how polite!" murmured Jennie.
"What I am trying to get at," Ruth continued earnestly, "is the fact that the rebuilding of the West Dormitory should interest us girls more than anybody else in the world, save Mrs. Tellingham."
"Well—doesn't it?" demanded Mary Cox, rather sharply.