“Eleanor Watson, come on if you’re coming,” called a voice from the foot of the stairs, and Eleanor marched blithely off, without finishing her sentence.
Betty stared after her with unseeing eyes. So that was it! She was to blame because Jean had told her of Eleanor’s predicament–told her against her wish. And now she was supposed to be trying to get votes.
“Votes for what, I wonder? How perfectly absurd!” said Betty to the brick wall she was facing. But the appropriate smile would not come, for the absurdity had cost her a friend whom she had loved dearly in spite of her faults.
CHAPTER XIV
A BEGINNING AND A SEQUEL
“I shan’t be here to dinner Sunday,” announced Helen Chase Adams with an odd little thrill of importance in her voice.
“Shan’t you?” responded her roommate absently. She was trying to decide which dress to wear to the Hilton House play. Her pink organdie was prettiest, but she really ought to save that for the Glee Club concert. And should she ask her cousin Jack Burgess up from Harvard for the concert, or would it be better to invite Mr. Parsons? These absorbing questions left her small attention to bestow on so comparatively commonplace a matter as an invitation out to Sunday dinner.
“I thought you might like to have some one in my place,” continued Helen, moving the pink organdie waist on to the same chair with the batiste skirt.
Betty came to herself with a start. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t see that I had taken up all the chairs. I was trying to decide what to wear to the dramatics.”
“And I was thinking what I’d wear Sunday,” said Helen.