Shirley and Sarah were together in Shirley's room—not at the foot of the attic stairs now, but a tiny "nest" under the artistic eaves, chosen for effect on the purse, as well as on the eye.
"I can't do it," Shirley was arguing, as Jane came to the door. "I simply am through at mid-year."
Surprised at this statement, Jane knocked quickly to forestall further disclosure. Both girls answered, and Jane found them glad— even anxious to see her.
"You are both surely coming to the dance," she began, falling into
Sally's prettiest cushions. "I came over just to make sure." "Oh,
Miss Allen," wavered Sally. "I can't go——"
"Now, Sally," Jane began, "please don't consider it is at all ignoble to be financially embarrassed. In fact, more than half of our girls are continually 'rationed,' as they call a cut in allowance. And if it is only a matter of a pretty little flowered gown——"
"No, that isn't it," interrupted Sally.
"The fact is, Miss Allen, we are both getting ready to—escape," said Shirley, with a double-edged laugh.
"Escape?"
"Go home and desert!"
Jane showed her astonishment. "You couldn't mean anything like that!" she gasped. "Oh, you wouldn't be so disloyal!"