“And we promised Mrs. Baird we’d never do it again,” Lois finished for her.
Polly whistled softly and reached for her sweater.
“Where are you going?” Betty demanded.
“For a walk, and I don’t want any company,” Polly replied, going out quietly and shutting the door.
Lois and Betty were too surprised to speak. And when they had recovered sufficiently to go out and follow Polly, it was too late, for Polly had chosen the most unlikely spot for her walk.
At dinner that night, Mrs. Baird announced the lecture. It was received with respectful silence. The rest of the girls were quite as disappointed as Lois and Betty had been—Polly was the only cheerful one at the Freshman table, and Betty whispered to Lois:
“I can’t make Polly out; she acts as if she were pleased.”
“Poll,” Lois appealed direct, “what is the matter with you, do you really think you are going to like this lecture?”
Polly smiled an inscrutable smile—“History is my favorite lesson,” she said primly.
After dinner she disappeared. There would be fifteen minutes before the lecture began and she had enough to do to fill each one. She went straight to the power house. Pat was standing in the doorway, his pipe in his mouth, and an expression on his face that boded ill to all lectures.