So the girls dashed through the pea-soup fog toward the college. They went around to the rear door, where they would be less likely to be seen. A few yards ahead of them, as they reached the college grounds, as far as they could see through the swirling mist, were two dim figures. Arden and her chums slackened their pace.
“It’s Henny talking to someone!” gasped Sim. “Compose yourselves, girls. Be very demure!”
“I hope he doesn’t stop us,” Terry remarked. “Who is he talking to—or should I say ‘whom’?”
“You should say ‘whom,’” declared Arden.
“Well, anyhow, I said it,” countered Terry.
“I knew what you meant,” responded Arden. “But look!” she whispered. “Isn’t Henny talking to Tom Scott, the gardener?”
“Yes, he is,” said Sim.
Composing themselves, the three girls walked at an ordinary pace along the shrubbery-lined path that led to the rear door of the dining hall. The chaplain and the young gardener were in earnest conversation, somewhat off the path on the edge of a large round flower bed. Just as the three reached the two men, who did not seem aware of their approach, the girls could hear the Rev. Henry ask, somewhat crossly:
“How much longer are you going to keep this up? It’s dangerous! I don’t like it at all. I am almost resolved——”
“Just give me a little longer chance,” pleaded the other. “I have almost settled it. I’ll see you again.”