“Because I’m a cross old thing,” laughed Miss King. “But just to show you that I can be nice sometimes, if you have no more fever I’ll let her stay and have supper with you. Now what am I?”
“You’re a darling and I’ll love you forever, but don’t you dare find I have a fever,” replied Polly.
Miss King did find her temperature a little above normal, but so little that Lois was permitted to stay, and the two of them had such a jolly time that Polly almost succeeded in forgetting the coming game and her own disappointment, and you may be sure Lois carefully kept off that dangerous subject. The time passed so quickly that the bell for study hour rang long before they expected it, and Lois had to fly to escape being late.
“Lo, half a minute,” Betty called just before the good-night bell. “I’ve something to tell you. I am chosen to fill Polly’s place tomorrow. Louise just told me.”
“I’m awfully glad for you, Bet,” answered Lois. “I know you’ll make good, but—”
“Yes, it’s that but that makes me so miserable,” replied Betty. “How can I be excited and pleased when I know Polly’s up there in the infirmary—Oh, it makes me sick to think of it!” she finished,
and before Lois could reply, she had disappeared into her own room and closed the door.
“Poor Betty,” sighed Lois sympathetically. “It’s all a mean shame.”
Just before Miss King turned out the infirmary lights, she delivered a note to Polly. It read:
“Polly Dear:
“Louise has asked me to play in your place on Saturday. I know you suggested it to her, too. Well, my chance has come and I am miserably unhappy at the very thought. I know I’ll make a million fouls and we’ll lose the game. Darn every bedroom slipper that was ever invented!
“Your doleful,
“Betty.”