It was Wednesday of the next week, and oddly enough not one of the “Why-Get-Ups” had been in for breakfast, lunch, or tea. They were saving up for their spread-eagle party, Betty thought, until the high-pitched chatter of two Belden House freshmen explained the “Why-Get-Ups’” unusual party, and suggested several other possible reasons why they stayed away from the Tally-ho.
“I’m just broken hearted,” one freshman declared in her shrill treble. “You see when I asked Marie to our house-party, she promised to come if she could have a dance with Lucile Merrifield. And now Lucile isn’t coming. I thought girls always went to their house-parties.”
“Goodness, no, dear,” the other told her importantly. “That is, they always have before, but you can trust this crowd to be different. Haven’t you heard anything about the fuss?”
The shrill-voiced freshman shook her head sadly.
“Well, of course it’s a dead secret,” the other went on, “but my roommate is an intimate friend of Miss Eastman’s. They asked her to join them, but she decided not to. She told me because she was just dying to talk it over with somebody. That was away back last week. It’s leaked out more now, so I’m sure there’s no harm in my telling you. Of course everybody will know Saturday night when they don’t appear.”
“Do go on,” begged the other.
At this point Betty, who scorned eavesdropping, made an errand to the kitchen. As early as possible that evening she went up to the Belden. Polly’s room was dark, but Betty found the “Why-Get-Ups” gathered in full force in Georgia’s corner single. Their greetings were constrained, and they plunged at once into a lively discussion of the last number of the “Argus,” which had come out that afternoon.
But Betty refused to delay. “I’ve come on business,” she announced. “I want to know if your house dance is this Saturday?”
“Why, yes, I believe it is,” Polly admitted casually, after a nudge from Lucille, “but we’re not going. I told you we were sick of weak lemonade and stupid partners. Have you planned our three courses?”
Betty turned upon Georgia. “Why are you all cutting your own house dance?” she demanded.