“And when I got there this wasn’t a day when it’s open to the public,” he explained to Mrs. Hildreth on the wharf, with a stoicism born of despair. “Well, if I live till to-morrow, I shall be on my way to a country where I’m glad to say that sightseeing isn’t the main business of life. Where’s your crimson streamer, Miss B. A.? You promised me a bow, didn’t you?” He turned to Babe, who blushed so red, as she pinned on the crimson rosette, that if he hadn’t been watching so impatiently for the boat, he would have guessed her happy secret and saved John an anxious afternoon.
“For if we lose,” John confided solemnly to Babe, “my father will be in a horrible temper this evening. And if I wait and tell him on shipboard, he won’t like my doing that. And if he’s huffy about it to begin with, he’ll never really like it.”
Betty was standing apart from the others, talking to Mr. Morton, who forgot to look at his watch and mutter that they should be late for the race after all their trouble, as he watched her bright face and listened to the story she was telling.
“Wish she’d break the news to him,” said John, gloomily.
“I do, too. I’ll ask her,” volunteered Babe; and as their boat touched the wharf just then, and the rush for good places tossed them together, she did.
But Betty only laughed at her. “Babe, dear, you’re absurd. Run right up to him, the two of you, and have it over. He’ll be awfully pleased. But there’d be no sense at all in my telling him.”
“Yes, there would be, too,” protested John, who had come up behind them. “I’m sorry for you, Miss Wales, but it’s your destiny. You shouldn’t have such a magic influence on my father’s feelings if you don’t want to exert it. Having benevolent adventures for your special line, you’ve got to live up to the responsibilities involved.”
“But I didn’t choose that for my specialty,” Betty persisted. “The girls just gave it to me.”
“It’s just like a ‘Merry Heart’ election,” declared Babe solemnly. “If Harvard loses this race, you are elected to tell. There’s no getting out of an election, you know.”
Babe wriggled in between two portly Englishmen, pounced upon a desirable group of chairs, sat down in one, and smoothed out her huge crimson bow with the air of happy irresponsibility that had won her her sobriquet at Harding.