The first day of the Xmas holidays had at last arrived and fifty-six tired girls were busily packing trunks and bags. Nerves that had been overstrained for the past couple of weeks had relaxed, and everywhere there was the noise and excitement of leaving.
In Freshman corridor trunks were being jumped on and made to close, and all the girls were exchanging addresses and exacting promises of letters and visits.
“Oh, Lois,” sighed Polly, taking her chum’s arm and leading her to the end of the corridor farthest away from the rest of the girls, “I do wish you didn’t live in Albany. Of course I’ll be glad to see Uncle Roddy, but I can’t help feeling that vacation is going to be awful lonely.”
“I know,” replied Lois. “I wish we could be together; anyhow we can write. Bet will be in New York and you will see her.”
“Yes, but Bet’s not you,” Polly answered. “But let’s cheer up. Why, here’s Betty now; speak of angels—looking for us?” she called.
“Oh, there you are; you’re both wanted—Polly
in the reception-room and Lo in Mrs. Baird’s office.”
“Do you know what for?”
“No.” But Betty’s expression made both girls apprehensive.
“Wonder what’s up,” queried Lois as they ran down the broad staircase to the main hall.