“Yes, but the skating is better,” said Lois, “specially on the river.”
“Elucidate,” said Angela.
Polly began:
“Well, it’s this way,” she explained; “Betty’s in a fearful mood, the worst possible stage of grouch, nothing suits her. The pond’s too small, and she objects to the girls who don’t know how to skate as well as she does; she says they’re in her way. Well, there’s nothing for her but to walk it off. We thought a select, mind, a very select number of girls and a chaperone, and an afternoon on the river, where she’d have plenty of room, might soothe her. Will you and Connie come?”
“With the solemn understanding that if you crack the whip, I don’t have to be end man,” answered Connie, thinking of the many times she had been sent spinning across the ice.
“I’ll go because it’s a select party,” laughed Angela. “And because I’m tired of this hill. Who else is going?”
“We thought we’d ask Louise and Florence, and perhaps they’ll want some of the other Seniors; we had to have some old girls along and they’re the nicest,” Betty told her.
“Have you got permission?”
“Not yet.”
“Who’s going to chaperone?”