“I don’t know,” replied Polly; “I can’t think of any one.”
“Neither can I,” Lois added, “except Miss Porter.”
“Why, that’s perfectly silly; don’t tell me there are only four girls in school we like,” protested Betty.
“You’re forgetting ourselves,” Lois reminded her.
“Yes, but even then.”
“Let’s each choose one other girl,” suggested Polly. “Lo, you first, who do you want?”
Lois puckered her eyebrows and tried hard to think; finally she said, “I just don’t want any one else and that’s the truth.”
Polly smiled, “Bet, it’s your turn; who do you want?”
“Mine? All right, let’s see. I like a lot of girls—there’s you and Lois and Ange and Connie—and—Oh, Jemima, but you’re all going and I can’t think of any one else, can you?”
“No, I can’t,” Polly said, laughing, “so that’s settled. Let’s go and ask Miss Porter.”