"Something must be done," she declared. Betty ground her teeth. "Jemima! I'd like to give both those Dorothys a ticket to the Fiji Islands," she said angrily. "They're spoiling our class."
"What about Fanny!" Lois inquired. "She's the one; evidently she's miserable, and look at that note."
Polly got back into bed.
"Everybody get out!" she ordered. "And, Bet, go find Fanny and ask her to come here. I'm going to talk to her. She's got some foolish idea in her head about us, and I'm going to find out what it is."
"What about the Dorothys?" Angela inquired, lazily. "Don't tire yourself out, Poll, they're not worth it."
"Oh, the Dorothys don't matter. They'll come around in time if we're nice to them. Of course, my being a heroine for the present won't help any," Polly said, with a grimace.
The interview with Fanny straightened everything out. Polly's surmise had been correct. Fanny was harboring the idea that, because Polly and Lois and Betty did not keep any love letters, they must, of course, consider her vain and foolish for doing it.
"I just know you all don't like me," she said, mournfully.
"Oh, Fanny, how silly you are." Polly laughed at her. "We did like you, and still do; you're loads of fun; you play basket ball wonderfully. You've no idea what a chance you have to be popular," she said, earnestly. "If you only wouldn't think everybody was trying to hurt your feelings. We really want to be friends."
It was a new experience for Polly to plead for friendship, but she did it, sincerely, and Fanny gave in. Lois and Betty joined them and a lasting peace was proclaimed.