Her face burned with a quick red, but she laughed infectiously. “We—we went wading, and I suppose I did this when I saw you, Jim, so it’s all his fault. Kay dear, can you forgive?”
Jim and Bud laughed with her, and of course the devoted Katherine forgave on the spot.
Young men are not allowed to linger in the grounds at Hampton, so the adieus were quickly said and Peggy and Katherine hurried across the campus to Ambler House.
No sooner had they reached their room than word went down the hall that there was cider in room 22, and one by one the girls on the second floor found excuses to drop into Peggy’s and Katherine’s room. They were most generously supplied with cider, as they hoped they would be, and Peggy and Katherine had no wish to keep any of it for themselves, after they had seen the sort of apples that went into it.
“Funny thing,” said Peggy sadly as they were dressing for the evening later, “I don’t believe I’ll ever like cider so very much again.”
“No,” agreed Katherine, “the safest way to do, if you want to keep your enthusiasm for anything, is not to know how it’s made.”
“You’re right. I’ll shut my eyes more after this,” laughed Peggy, “but anyway, dear room-mate, we had an awfully nice time, didn’t we?”
“Oh, so, so,” answered Katherine noncommittally.
[CHAPTER IX—THE HOUSE DANCE]
It seemed no time at all to Peggy, after the Indian summer passed, that winter rushed upon them and shriveled them up on their way to classes, and blew powdered snow in their faces when they went for their walks.