Dorothy had come to nearly hate that pretty evening frock of hers, because it seemed to her the buying of it had been at the root of most of her troubles since she had been at the Compton School. She argued to herself that if she had not been on the spot when Rhoda stuffed the jumper under her coat, most of the unpleasant things could not have happened.
Of choice Dorothy would not have worn the frock again that term, but when one has only a single evening frock, that frock has to be worn whenever the occasion demands it. The rules of the school were that each girl should have one evening frock, and only one, so it was a case of Hobson’s choice. Dorothy slipped the frock over her shoulders on the evening when the boys were coming over, and felt as if she would much rather go up to the study, and grind away at books until bedtime.
Such a state of mind being a bit unnatural, she gave herself a shake, which served the double purpose of settling her frock and her mind at the same time; then she went downstairs, and cracked so many jokes with the other girls, that they all wondered what had come to her, for she was usually rather quiet, and not given to over-much in the way of fun-making.
When the boys came trooping in Bobby Felmore made straight for her—he mostly did. Dorothy received him graciously enough, but there was a sparkle in her eyes which should have shown him that she was out to set things straight according to her own ideas.
“How many dances are you going to let me have to-night?” he asked, bending closer to her and looking downright sentimental.
Dorothy laughed softly, and her eyes sparkled more than ever as she murmured in a gentle tone, “This one, and never another, unless——”
“Unless what?” he demanded blankly.
“Blanche says you have been winning a lot of money in a sweepstake of some sort in your school during the last week or so. Is it true?” she asked.
“You bet it is true,” he answered with a jolly laugh. “I just about cleaned out the lot of them, and I’m in funds for the rest of the term, with a nice little margin over to help me through the Christmas vac.”
“I think you are a horrid, mean thing to take my money, that I had saved by going without things,” she said, with such a burst of indignation, that Bobby looked fairly knocked out by her energy.