Lois started the conversation, rather abruptly. She was afraid to let Polly say much. Polly was a little bit too frank in her opinion, and Lois dreaded hurt feelings above all things.
"We found your flowers in our room Saturday night," she said, smiling. "They were very pretty, and we want to thank you for them."
"But you mustn't send any more," Polly put in, quite gently for her. "We really appreciate the thought, but— Well, you both know how easy it is for all the rest of the girls to cry— Crush—Crush."
"Oh, but we didn't, haven't," Jane and Phylis blurted out, "really, Polly."
"Of course you haven't a crush," Lois said, soothingly. "We know that you don't believe in them, or you would never have lectured Fanny so about sentimentality, yesterday."
Polly gasped; was Lois really sarcastic—personally—she preferred the direct attack.
"You know," she began firmly, "you had no right to talk that way to a Junior—it was disrespectful, and Fanny had a right to be angry."
Jane and Phylis hung their heads.
"I know it; we didn't really mean to be fresh," Jane said, apologetically. "We just thought maybe Fanny was homesick, and we'd cheer her up."
"We were going in to advise her who to vote for as captain, really," Phylis took up the tale, "but she wouldn't give us a chance. After we hinted that she shouldn't be boy crazy she sent us out. It doesn't really matter; she'll vote for you—" Phylis stopped. Tears of mortification came to her eyes. "Anyway," she finished, hastily, "we won't send you any more flowers, if you don't want us to, and, honestly, we won't have a crush."