“Thrilling, Bet, thrilling,” teased Lois, but Polly made her stop by pushing her down on the bed and stuffing a pillow over her mouth. To Betty she said:
“It’s a bully idea. It ought to be wonderful near the river tonight. Who’s going?”
Lois struggled under the pillow. “I’ll be good, let me up,” she pleaded. “Ugh! you nearly smothered me. I’ll tell you who’s going. We are, of course, and Ange and Connie, and the two Dorothys, because one of them can sing, and perhaps Florence and Louise and—oh, anybody else that wants to come along.”
“Who’ll chaperon?”
“Oh, I never thought of that.”
“Let’s ask Miss Porter; I know she’d like it.” It was Polly’s suggestion.
“Fine, she’s just the one.”
“Not if the two Dorothys come,” Betty said
decidedly. “Have you forgotten the row in class?”
“Then let’s drop the two Dorothys,” replied Lois.