“It’s a newsboys’ club to run just as I like,” Bob explained around the festive board of picnic number one. “It has a splendid building in town, and a farm for summers that I made father give me. How’s that for little me?”
“But I don’t see how she’s ever going to get away for any more fun,” Babe told them anxiously.
“I shall have my fun as I go along, silly,” Bob retorted promptly. “When you find a job that really fits, you don’t need to worry about vacations, do you, Betty Wales?”
“Why don’t you ask me?” demanded Madeline gaily. “I’m the one who’s really perfectly crazy about her work.”
“I notice you take plenty of vacation,” Babe told her.
“That,” said Madeline, “is because I’m naturally idle and frivolous. Bob, being naturally serious-minded and industrious, will do differently, without sacrificing her happiness.”
“Calling one of the three little B’s industrious and serious-minded!” mocked Babbie. “How absurd! But it isn’t any absurder, maybe, than the way the three little B’s have settled down since they left college. Just think! By next fall two of them will be staid married ladies——”
“And the third will be wedded to a great career,” Madeline took her up. “Of course I’m always more interested in the great careers. It’s dreadful to belong to such a marrying bunch as this is. Any day I expect to find myself alone in the state of single blessedness.”
“You’re not worrying about that very much yet a while, are you?” Rachel demanded laughingly.
“Not really losing sleep over it,” Madeline acknowledged. “So far I feel that I can safely count on you and Christy and Roberta, and Bob—though for all I know there may be a man behind her fondness for newsboys’ homes. I have my suspicions that there’s a man behind Helen Adams’ sudden enthusiasm for teaching, and I have my grave doubts about Betty Wales. So far the two parties are about even, but the O. M.’s are bound to lose out in the end, poor dears!”