Betty smiled and then sighed. “We can’t establish branches until we’ve started, can we? And we can’t seem——”
“Reproach us not, fair maiden,” Madeline broke in. “You are hereby elected committee on rooms, isn’t she, Babbie? You go ahead and choose, and we’ll agree to anything you decide.”
Next morning the committee on rooms announced her plan for a systematic campaign. “I wish you two would come and help look, but if you do, remember that we can’t stop to talk with Georgia or any one else we meet, and we can’t do any shopping or eating until after half-past twelve.”
But a brisk walk the whole length of Main Street only served to confirm Madeline’s and Babbie’s fears. Every building was occupied.
“We’ll go in somewhere and ask what to do when you want to start something,” Betty decided, bound not to lose faith in systematic procedure. “You do the talking, Madeline.”
“Why, you might persuade some property owner to build for you,” suggested the jeweler’s clerk, whom Madeline rushed in upon with her question.
“Thanks, but we want to move in about day after to-morrow,” Madeline told him grandly.
“Well, I presume you’ve all heard the old saying, ‘If wishes were horses every Harding girl would ride,’” retorted the clerk with a grin and a wink.
“Horrid thing!” said Babbie, when they were outside. “He thinks we’re college girls off on some kind of a queer lark. We’ll show him! Where next, Betty?”
Betty was staring up the hill with an air of profound discouragement. “I think we ought to look at the side-streets,” she decided at last. “I don’t believe it’s any use considering up-stairs rooms.”