“What wonders you are,” she said. “You’ve done all the work so far, it’s lots more the Freshmen’s party than the Seniors’.”
“But you and Louise can’t be expected to do it all,” replied Polly, decidedly. “And you know you’re the only two that count,” she added, lowering her voice so that the other Seniors, who were willingly, but unsuccessfully, attempting the decorations at the other end of the room, would not hear her.
Florence, a little confused at such frank praise, said hurriedly:
“Well, you’re dears to do it anyway and now, if you’ll do something with that tent I’ll fly to Louise. I promised to help her with those fortunes. We have to write one for every girl, and it will take ages.”
“Poor dear, and to think I sucked up half the lemon,” said Betty contritely. “I’ll go get you some milk, it’s just as good,” she finished, starting for the door.
“You can’t,” Angela called after her. “The storeroom’s closed.”
Betty, already out of the room, whirled around on one toe, and holding to the side of the doorway
for support, poked her laughing face around the corner.
“Then, I’ll steal it from the cat,” she said.
For the rest of the morning, Angela and Polly, under the able directions of Lois, who was undoubtedly very artistic, worked over the tent and succeeded in making it look quite habitable.