“It is rather dark just now,” admitted Jean, “but you know we’re all going to the ice cream festival in the basement of the Baptist church tonight. That ought to cheer most anybody.”
“Except Augusta Lemon,” said Cora.
“Why?” asked Henrietta. “Because we have to go early and get away from there before the Theologs arrive on the scene at eight thirty?”
“No, but she’s torn a great jagged hole in the front of her best dress and spilled ink on her second best frock. Since she’s been going with Gladys, she feels as if she had to be dressy.”
“We ought to help her out,” said kind-hearted Jean.
“So we ought,” said Maude, a wicked light beginning to dance in her golden brown eyes. “I have a beautiful idea. I think we ought to help her out a whole lot.”
“How?” asked Marjory.
“Well, you know what a goose she is—how easy it is to make her do what you want her to do—”
“Yes,” said Cora, “she hasn’t any backbone.”
“Not a particle,” agreed Sallie.