“Yes,” said Mary Todd. “It’s just part of college life. And you may as well go to the orchard now, while it is still light and bright. I certainly hope I don’t have to do that stunt. No orchard in mine.”
“Some of us probably will have to gather the apples later,” declared Jane Randall. “But a soph, who got a little friendly with me, said that the best apples were at the far side of the orchard. So you girls had better go there at the start, as Toots and her crowd won’t accept nubbins, and you don’t want to have to make two trips.”
“I should say not,” murmured Sim. “One is bad enough.”
Arden and Terry were still a bit bewildered, even after this well-meant advice, and Sim declared she was “dying from embarrassment.”
“I suppose we may as well go. What do you say, girls?” asked Arden.
“Yes, let’s! Anything to get away from here!” Sim was regarding the circle of amused girls.
“You take our books to our room, will you?” Terry asked Mary Todd. “We’ll let you know later how we make out.”
The fated trio started down the southern slope of Bordmust Hall hill toward the picturesque orchard where, even now, though it was not very late, the shadows were lengthening and the sun had lost some of its brightness. They crossed a field, deep with grass, crawled through the bars of a snake-rail fence, and found themselves beneath the trees.
“I vote we pick up the first apples we can see,” voiced Terry.
“Certainly!” agreed Arden.